Oneshot Shorts
by Invaderk
Summary: Various pairings or centric. A series of oneshots and drabbles too short to be on their own, collected here for your viewing pleasure. Mostly romance, but other genres as well. Ch 34: They are both lost, in their own ways, and wandering...
1. Brainwashed

A/N: Hello. I'm making a collection for my little oneshots that are too short to be on their own. If any ships, it's probably Kataang or some form of the Sokka Three (SokkaxYue, SokkaxToph, SokkaxSuki). Huzzah!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

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Brainwashed

"Brainwashed."

The word coming from Sokka's mouth sounded more like a conviction than a statement. Katara buried her face in her hands in groaned in dismay. After everything, he'd been gone for one day and he'd been brainwashed.

The exasperation of the Earthbender wasn't restrained in the slightest; she fell back on the straw bed and sighed an annoyed sigh. "Oh great, just fantastic," she spat. "He's finally got the elements under some control, and then he goes and gets his memory erased by the Dai Li. And judging on what I've heard, it's a whole lot worse than what happened to your buddy Jet. Twinkletoes doesn't even know that he's the Avatar!"

This was true. Aang sat there on a rickety three-legged stool, looking around the room with a sort of frightened interest. His wrists were red and raw from his struggling to break the strong bonds that the Dai Li had used to hold him, but Toph had long since removed the metal shackles. Even so, he remained as still as if he were at knifepoint. They'd tried reminding him of his identity, of his past adventures, and of his task for the future. Heck, they'd even done the same method they'd tried on Jet; the method with the water. So far, no reaction. The Avatar, who had expressed the utmost shock at being referred to as such, could remember nothing besides what he had for dinner at the Air Temple 'last night'.

Then, suddenly, Katara was hit by an idea. It were as if a figment of the past had leapt forward into her sight. A crazy idea, yes, but maybe a possible one. After all, her crazy ideas had worked in the past, and this was really no different.

Katara looked up from her hands for the first time in about a minute and dropped to her knees in front of Aang.

"I know you don't remember anything," she said quietly, taking his hands in his lap. Aang looked down at her hands, then back at her, and she saw the hesitation on his face. "But I know you must remember, somewhere deep inside your heart. Please, try to remember something, anything."

His only response was a sad stare. Sighing, Katara bowed her head and closed her eyes. Time for plan B. She looked up at him from the floor – looked straight into his gray eyes – and saw that they were filled to the brim with despair and confusion.

"I thought you'd remember my name, at least, but you have no idea who I am," she said, now acutely aware that her brother and Toph were paying attention to every move she made. Her voice was low, her head bowed once again, until she looked up and raised herself on her knees. The wooden floor was painful to kneel on, but she didn't care just then. Hands shaking the slightest bit, Katara reached up and placed a hand on either side of Aang's face, pulled his head towards hers, and brought her lips crashing down on his. Behind her, Sokka let out an exclamation, tripped backwards over the bed, and collided with an unsuspecting Toph. Both shouted in alarm upon impact.

A few moments later, eyes still closed firmly shut, Katara slowly began to take her mouth away from Aang's. Before their lips had parted completely, though, she felt something that she hadn't been expecting – a salty teardrop. Next, in a voice so quiet that she herself hardly heard it, Aang muttered a single word against her lips:

"Katara."

Katara gasped and pulled away so that she could look him in the eye. His face was streaked from the tear, but a smile was on his face, and that said everything.

"Oh Aang!" she exclaimed. Without looking back to see if her brother was readying his machete, she pulled Aang into her arms, held him, and wept.

-

_"Maybe Katara could kiss him. _That _should bring something back. "_

-

_Fin._


	2. Hate

A/N: Just something I whipped up for the sake of writing.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

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Hate

"I hate you."

Toph had prided herself on being very, well, proud. She'd prided herself on having a rocky exterior and a cold inside to match. With harsh words and unfriendly actions, she showed that she didn't need other people in order to achieve happiness. So, naturally, she was quite surprised at Sokka's reply to her spiteful comment.

"No, you don't."

He sounded casual, even nonchalant. She couldn't understand how, since they had had an argument just moments beforehand. They hardly ever fought – much less than she fought with her other companions, at any rate. Since his back was to her as he sharpened his Boomerang, he didn't see her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

In a haughty fashion, she placed her hands on her hips and scowled; the stance was something she'd picked up from paying attention to Katara. "How do _you_ know if I hate you or not?" she snapped. "You can't read my mind."

"No, I can't," he said. With a grunt, he heaved himself off the ground. "But I can see your face."

When she did nothing, he picked up his boomerang and ran his fingers along the edge in silence. "I can just tell things. I'm a smart guy, you know. Pay attention to Aang and Katara, for example. They're over in the –"

"I can tell where they are!" Toph cut in, annoyed.

Sokka held his hands up in his own defense. "Fine, fine. Well, pay attention to them. It doesn't take an Earthbender or even being able to see in order to tell that they like each other. They're flirting right now, just by splashing around in the river. _That's_ how I can tell you don't hate me." He paused for dramatic effect, then added, "And you know what else I noticed?

Her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink, but she responded with a dignified "No."

Ignoring this answer completely, Sokka strode up to Toph and said in the voice he usually reserved for picking on Aang and Katara, "You don't hate me at all, do you? In fact, you actually sort of like me, don't you, Toph?"

Of all the things Toph Bei Fong wanted at that moment, the thing she wanted most was for Sokka not to notice her blush. So, in an attempt to make her mortification seem more like rage, she began to shout at him.

"You conceited jerk! Why in the world would I _ever_ have feelings for you? You just _assume_ that I like you because you're cute and funny and smart, but really you're just a self-centered, annoying, je – _mph!_"

Her tirade was cut short when he swooped down and kissed her, hard. Her Earthbending reflexes almost caused her to send him flying in a wave of dirt and rock, but something else caused her reflexes to stop. Something else – a something deep inside, where she assumed it had been hiding – liked this feeling, and that same something else forced her to kiss him back. Toph was no longer aware of her surroundings, no longer aware that Katara and Aang had stopped their Waterbending to stare, in shock, at the unlikely couple at the campsite, and she liked it. All the while, a voice in the back of her head laughed.

_Maybe I should fight with Sokka more often._

–

_Fin._

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A/N: I'm drowning in the fluff of my mind. Don't save me - I'm perfectly content. xD_  
_


	3. Consolation

A word of warning: you're probably not going to like this. I liked writing it, but reading it was a completely different story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

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Consolation

It was strange. Sometimes Aang wondered why the faces of his best friends passed before his mind's eye in the dead of night, faces that often smiled at him and said words of consolation. And _that_ was a mystery to him as well. Why would he need consolation from these people in the first place? He was just a simple enough guy, living a simple life in a simple fashion. He was happy. Very happy.

A knock on the door echoed through the room, and he turned away from the wall to see who it was. Though he was not surprised to see Sokka standing in the doorway, he still beamed at the sight of the familiar face.

"Sokka!" Aang exclaimed, sitting up straight and smiling a broad smile. "It's good to see you!"

Sokka smiled back

_why does he look so sad?_

and closed the door behind him. "Hey Aang. How are you?" he asked.

Aang nodded in reply and scooted over so that Sokka could sit. The warrior did so, pulling a badly wrapped package out of his pocket. He handed it to Aang, who took it with a curious expression on his face. While the brown paper was torn and messy, Aang could tell that Sokka had put a great deal of care into wrapping it.

"What is it?" he asked. Before Sokka had the chance to answer, though, Aang slid his thumb under the wrapping and peeled it away. Out of the paper slipped a long, thin piece of wood. A flute.

"I thought you'd want it," said Sokka. He smiled a little and scratched the back of his neck with some uncertainty. "I found it this morning in the – in my house."

Aang looked up from the flute, which he had been expecting for the last few seconds. It was familiar to him somehow, as if he'd used it before, but he couldn't remember exactly when.

"Oh, did you?" he asked. It didn't matter all that much where Sokka had found it – he couldn't remember where it was from, anyway. Besides, he appreciated the gesture even if he didn't see the point of it. Smiling, he changed the subject, "So, how's Toph doing? She hasn't come around much recently, but I guess that's what happens when you have three kids to look after, right? You must be so proud, Sokka."

Through his spiel, he hadn't taken notice to Sokka's smile beginning to fade.

"And speaking of which," Aang continued, twirling the flute in his fingers as he spoke, "Did I tell you the good news?"

Sokka tried to cut in now, in a soft voice, "Aang –"

"Katara's pregnant again! Isn't that great, Sokka? We've finally got the big family we've always wanted. Three Airbenders –"

"Aang –" Sokka's expression was pained.

"– two Waterbenders –"

"_Aang_ –" Sokka's voice raised up louder now, but Aang didn't pay him any attention. During his happy rambling, he hadn't noticed two tears slip from Sokka's eyes and run down his face.

"– And one more on the way! Did you know that the Air Nomads have a one hundred percent turnout for Benders because of their deep spiritual connection? And you don't get much more spiritual than the Avatar!" Aang laughed. "Gee, I wonder what type of Bender it will be. Katara's hoping for another Waterbender, but I get the feeling that it's going to be a –"

"Aang, stop it!"

It were as if Sokka's pained, piercing yell had shattered the glass around Aang, revealing everything that he had been hiding. Around him, his perfect world began to shatter as his grin melted off his face and his hand clenched on the flute until his knuckles turned white. The horror of what he had somehow forgotten came rushing back to him at full speed.

Sokka, realizing what had just happened, leapt off the cot and jumped in front of his friend. "Aang! Aang, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

Dropping the flute to the ground with a clatter, Aang clapped his hands over his ears.

"No!" he shook his head vigorously, violently, staring right through the man in front of him. "No! Not Katara, _please_ not Katara!"

The shout caused Sokka to flinch. He stumbled backwards and began darting towards the door. "Nurse! He's doing it again! Somebody, get in here and help him!"

Meanwhile, images began flooding back into his brain in a rush of color and sound: Sokka's pathetic cries at the sight of Toph and his children, all dead in their own home… Aang's own terror at the sight, and his running home as fast as his legs would carry him, just to make sure that his beautiful wife was alive and well, reading their children to sleep with one hand resting on her pregnant belly… The sight of her lifeless body, slumped against the wall. Her blood…

_Blood everywhere._

The present Aang, screaming in agony, fell off his cot in the mental institution of Ba Sing Se, and clutched at his throat as he had clutched at her shirt that night, not caring that a red substance was staining his hands. Why had this – this _assassination_ – happened? Tears began to spill from his eyes and he screamed her name into the white ceiling, pleading for release. If only he could have been faster, he could have saved her. He could have saved his children and Toph and _her_ children. Sokka's children.

Sokka, accompanied by three nurses, came running into the room. "Aang, it's okay! Aang!"

His voice didn't even register in the Avatar's ears. Aang's eyes, though they looked at the nurses and his friend, were painted over with the image of himself, kneeling over the body of Katara and clutching her to him, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair between gasping sobs.

"Aang, stop!"

Sokka, now with tears falling freely from his eyes, got down on his knees and grabbed Aang, pinning him to the wall so that the nurses could help. A female dressed in green approached the thrashing Aang with a syringe in one hand and a steaming cup in the other.

"Sokka!" Aang sobbed, "Help me, Sokka!"

"Hold still, Aang," Sokka ordered. "Hold still and I'll help you!"

"My hands, Sokka – they're _covered_ in blood. Help me, please!"

Aang stopped thrashing the moment the nurse put her hand to his forehead and held the back of his head against the wall. Next came the cup, pressing against his lips and forcing him to swallow the warm substance within. The memories began to swirl together into one big red splotch in his memory. Then the pain in his arm – a sharp sort of pain that he suddenly knew was a syringe, feeding him a sedative that would knock him out for a few hours. And when he would wake up, he would not remember –

It was strange. The sad faces of his friends swam before his eyes, offering him words of consolation and love. But why they were consoling him, he didn't know. Why would he need consolation from these people in the first place? From anybody? He was just a simple enough guy, living a simple life in a simple fashion. He was happy. Very happy.

-

_Fin._

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A/N: Told you so. D:

Thanks for reading nonetheless.


	4. The Little Things

A/N: Behold the fruits of my random plot bunnies.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

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The Little Things

Let's face it: my job is the hardest one that any one person could have. As much as I love to travel and see peace being made after all the work I've done, saving the world can get a little old and tiring sometimes. More often than not, when I return home from a long journey, my beautiful wife meets me at the door with a hug and something hot to eat – never stewed prunes, though, thank the spirits.

Katara and I have an interesting relationship, to say the least. If I'm too tired to talk, she'll just let me go to sleep. I know she worries about my health a lot; with all the traveling I do, sometimes I'm at the end of my rope by the time I stumble through the doorway, often injured and always hungry. But she takes care of me, makes sure I don't come down with something, et cetera et cetera.

But don't get me wrong. She's not my slave, and she doesn't treat me like a king. Plenty of times she's been the one needing care or love or something of that sort, and I've always been happy to aid her. I'm not a king, and she's not my jester. As entertaining as she can be, most of the time it's unintentional. It's usually some move she makes or some offhand comment that she says that makes a smile come to my face. It's just one of the reasons I love her so much.

Anyway, enough of my tangent and back to the topic. If I'm tired, she lets me sleep. In the morning I can count on breakfast being ready, rich in all the vegetarian things I love, including sweets. Then it's outside we go to do some sort of yard work, visit Appa, or take a walk together. If I'm _not_ tired or injured when I get home then… well, you get the picture, I'm sure. Once we've gotten whatever was in our systems out, I just like to lie there and hold her in my arms. Every day I'm gone feels like a year without my wife, my Katara. My job takes a lot out me, but it's hard on her, too. The chance that I may never come home, while small at this point, is still higher of that than somebody who works in the city all the time. We pay for our love with a price, a high one, but it's worth it. I'm living in a dream that I've longed for since I was twelve years old: doing what I love to do and living with the woman I love. Yes, life is difficult at times and we both wish that it was less dangerous, but it's worth it. All the little things she does for me – from putting up with my being gone for long periods of time to cooking breakfast – I appreciate more than she could ever understand.

And when she decides to tell me that she's got a new life on the way – I can sense that she's pregnant (call it an Avatar thing), but I won't let her know that – life will be even better. If that's even possible.

-

_Fin._

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A/N: I thought that, in a world where I hear, "Make me a sandwich, woman!" more often than anything else, Aang, at least, would appreciate the woman in his life and the little things she does for him. 


	5. Summer Siblinghood

A/N: I wrote this on the Kataang forum for the user named "QTpie" as a part of my 100-word Drabble request handout thingy, in which people requested drabbles and I wrote them. I'll post all the Kataangy ones at once, I think, some other time. I just happened to enjoy the irony of this one.

The person wanted something from ickle Zuko and Azula, in the time before Azula became mean. This is a 100-word drabble-shot.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Happy Reading!

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Summer Siblinghood

Zuko flopped down beside his little sister and watched her drink her frozen beverage with an envious eye.

"Hey Zula," he said. "Wanna give me a drink of that?"

The four-year-old looked from her brother to her drink, then shook her head. Zuko, pressured by the blazing heat of the summer, snatched the drink out of her hands, grinning.

"No!" she shrieked, scrambling to her knees and trying to grab the drink.

Zuko quickly took a sip from the straw and handed the glass back to Azula. Smacking lips, he laughed, "Thanks, Azu! You're the best sister in the world."

-

_Fin._


	6. In the Eyes of the Unseeing

A/N: In a desperate attempt to write something a little less cliche than my usual stuff, I wrote this.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

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In the Eyes of the Unseeing

She'd been standing there, blind as can be, for nearly an hour now. The wooden stepstool was a discomfort beneath her bare feet, her dress both heavy and uncomfortable. Occasionally she'd feel a poke from Katara sticking pins in the fabric.

Wincing in both pain and annoyance, Toph lashed out. "Are you done yet?"

Since Katara was holding several pins in her pursed lips, she could do little more than shake her head and make an accompanying noise. Toph sighed again. Katara took the last pin from her mouth and used it to fix part of the waistline.

"You know, Toph," she said in a casual voice laced with something that Toph didn't like very much, "If you hadn't ripped the dress while pulling it over your head, you wouldn't be standing here now."

"I didn't do it on purpose, Sugar Queen." Her reply was in the same tone as Katara's.

"Well if you were a little more gentle –" Katara stopped herself short, took a deep breath, and finished in a cheerful voice, "Never mind. This is your day. You look beautiful!"

Toph shifted where she stood as Katara adjusted a pin. The dress rippled all around her in a way she, for some strange reason, sort of enjoyed, regardless of her initial grudge against the whole getup. "I do?"

"Yes."

Toph would have very much liked to be able to detect a lie, but her current connection to the ground was less than desirable. Instead, she took the gentle tone in her friend's voice as honesty.

In an attempt to cover up for the awkward – or, what had been awkward in Toph's mind – silence, she nodded once and winced again as a pin poked her in the side. "Are you sure I don't look stupid?"

xXx

"Yes, I'm sure!"

A deep, sick feeling was in the stomach of the Warrior as he stared at his frowning reflection. The handmade Water Tribe formal garb seemed superficial on him, unfitting, as if it didn't really belong on him. He would have been perfectly happy with his old apparel, but the occasion commanded that he wear something special.

"I _feel_ like I look stupid," he grumbled. "I can't believe I'm doing this, Aang. I feel like, I don't know, like I'm going to be sick. In a good way."

Aang, whose mood seemed to be better than ever before, Airbended himself off the ground and brought with him the handful of berries upon which he had been snacking. When he offered some to Sokka, though, Sokka merely clapped a hand over his mouth and tried not to retch.

"Aw, come on, Sokka. Aren't you excited? You're getting married!"

Sokka stared at his friend's reflection. "Of course I'm excited," he insisted. "I'm just… a little overwhelmed." At this, he felt a strange chill down his spine. He turned to Aang. "Do you think I'll be a good husband? I know the sexist thing was a little over-the-top, but I grew out of it, didn't I? And it's not like she can make me dinner or do my clothes anyway, so I guess _I_ would sort of be like the housewife in the relationship –"

"Sokka, you're rambling."

"Sorry."

At this, Aang laughed and straightened the warrior's collar. "It's going to be fine, trust me. You look great, Toph looks great, and everything is gonna go smooth as can be."

Sighing, Sokka closed his eyes. "You're right. Everything's gonna be great."

xXx

Toph could both hear and feel people running about outside her door, rushing to find their seats and everything else. The familiar footsteps of Aang, light and swift, paused only for a moment outside her door before he took off again. She was to meet them outside in the garden, where the ceremony would take place. The thought that nobody offered to escort her down the aisle had been almost amusing; such an offer to Toph Bei Fong would have been just short of condescending, surely. Since her father was not present to take her arm, she wouldn't have minded if even Aang had offered, if just so she could turn him down.

Over to her left, her old, sackcloth-like fighting outfit – worn from use and constant resizing as she had grown taller and more feminine through the years – slid from the top of the dresser to the ground. Toph winced. What would everybody think of her, all dolled up like some sort of beauty queen? After all, Katara had informed her that jaws would drop at the sight. A pale green dress, like Toph's own eyes (though Toph couldn't understand why _that_ was beautiful), Katara had said.

Now, more than ever before, Toph felt as if she were playing the part of the Blind Bandit; the costume wasn't quite the same, no, but she was hiding behind a secret identity of sorts. Her semi-rough hands ran over the curves of her own hips, taking in the familiar contours that sat, covered, by an unfamiliar gown. A perfect fit, with the help of a handful of pins and Katara's eye for perfection. The dress hugged in all the right places, looking – or so she imagined – both flattering and conservative. A little something for the crowd.

Yet, no matter how well the dress fit, it didn't seem right to Toph. She frowned, half at the thought and half at the sound of music beginning to drift through the back doors of the building. They would be expecting her at any moment, expecting to see her all made-up and beautiful. As much as the thought irked her, she thought that, perhaps, it wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps, since it was her wedding day, she _deserved_ to feel beautiful. Her eyebrows arched in contemplation of this new thought. Then, as she ran her fingers over the folds of the delicate material and her head turned slightly to the left, Toph smiled.

Perhaps she _did_ deserve to feel beautiful.

xXx

Countless pairs of eyes stared up at the self-conscious Sokka, who was trying not to fidget too much. He clasped his sweaty hands behind his back in an effort to keep them from shaking. Never in his twenty years had he ever felt such a strange combination of feelings; even the post-war celebration had fallen short of this powerful feeling that had consumed his insides, making his heart hammer in his throat. The music had been playing for almost a minute now, and still no sign of the bride had become apparent in the double doors. People began to whisper, and even the usually calm Katara turned her head worriedly towards the open doors.

Now he heard the slow buildup of murmuring voices as people began to look around in confusion and amusement. Aang, from where he sat next to Katara, bit his lip and looked up at Sokka. He shrugged in a "we'll just sit this out" kind of way and offered his friend a hopeful smile. Meanwhile, Sokka was trying not to look as if he were holding back a dry heave; Toph had abandoned him on their wedding day, after everything. The cool and collected Sokka, complete with positive attitude and sarcasm, swirled and vanished. Oh how he was going to –

Several loud gasps and the sudden cease in nauseatingly romantic music caused him to avert his eyes from the ground. Standing there in the doorway, clad in her Earthbending apparel and a radiant smile, was Toph. At first, Sokka could do no more than stare, slack-jawed, at the Earthbender as she strode confidently down the aisle, her bare feet coated in a thick layer of dirt. Then, as the initial shock wore off and his bride drew ever closer, Sokka felt a wide grin spreading across his face. How could he have expected Toph to wear something as confining and uncharacteristic as a dress?

The sound level of the room increased a decibel, as the musicians seemed to have realized that they had stopped playing. Mutterings grew more hushed, heads turned from friends to the bold bride walking down the aisle with her head held high. When, after what felt like an eternity for the warrior, Toph finally became level with him, Sokka reached out and took her hands in his. He could see that her face had been washed clean only minutes before, yet a small smudge of dirt had somehow already graced the side of her cheek.

"From the look on my sister's face, I'm going to guess that you weren't planning on this change," he said, smirking.

Toph's grin was bright, her unseeing eyes sparking with a devious undertone just beneath the surface. Sokka could only imagine what Toph must have looked like before her decision, but he couldn't help but think that she had never looked better than at that very moment.

xXx

_Fin._

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A/N: I figured that Toph would be much happier getting married in fighting clothes. And yes, in case you missed it, she altered them as she grew so that they fit. At some point I imagine that Katara would have had to cut the whole thing in half and sew in another section of fabric, but you can use your imaginations. :D


	7. Alone

A/N: Few things can describe that hate I feel for thinking up titles.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Happy Reading!

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Alone

Nearly an hour had passed since he'd been left alone in the very spot he stood. So, naturally, Aang had not been surprised to hear Katara's footsteps halt in the stony entrance. Nevertheless, a strange weight had been holding him down for quite some time now, keeping his thoughts from their usual lucidity.

A chill ran up his spine at the sound of laughing children playing in the courtyard. Their laughter, sounding only in the darkest depths of his memory in a ghostly echo, brought on a fierce burn in the pit of his heart and in the back of his eyes.

"Aang?" Gentle and timid, Katara's voice brought him out of his trancelike state.

Aang ran a hand along the marble encasing with an obsessive, searching look in his eye, looking for any sort of error in a monumental structure that even Toph would have been proud of. Not a single scratch, not a chip or bump to be had. On the heavy top slab, carved letters stood out with a sense of pride, formed from Aang's dedicated chiseling.

"It's beautiful, Aang," said Katara, still quiet. "I'm glad you came here to do this."

Now he turned his back on the fruit of his efforts and fixed his gray eyes on the different, though equally breathtaking, sight that was Katara. He strode forward, stopped in front of her, and enveloped her in a tight hug.

"Thank you for coming with me," he murmured into her ear. The smell of her hair, sweet and light, filled his heart with warmth in this cold place.

She nodded in reply, wiping a tear from her cheek.

Aang turned again to face the structure, taking a step out of the darkness and into the sun as he went. He bent low in a bow like he had done many times before, hands together, before straightening up.

"Thank you, Gyatso. For everything."

Then he closed the tomb with a simple display of Earthbending, turned, and guided his pregnant wife away from the Southern Air Temple for the last time.

They were going home.

-

"_Finally one young monk – he was the favorite of the monk who had died – went down to the crypt and dug up his teacher…" _

– _The Historian_

-

_Fin._

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A/N: I recently took up an old hobby of mine that I like to call 'reading'. I've just begun _The Historian_, and this line stood out to me, just begging to be written about. So yeah. Aang didn't actually dig Gyatso up, but he made him a proper burial chamber thing. Then Katara came into the picture and I thought, "Let's knock her up, just for kicks", and the story was made.

Written out longhand in one session – approximately 20 minutes total.


	8. Closet Space

A/N: What started off as a 100-word drabble request turned into this. All the requirements were met, I believe, and I thought it would fit nicely with my collection.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

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Closet Space

First, they'd been sneaking. Then, as luck would have it, they'd been sighted. Now, as Katara and Aang sped down the polished hallway of stone, Katara couldn't help but wonder if they would get out of this place at all. Perhaps infiltrating the Fire Nation Palace had not been such a great idea.

"Where're Sokka and Toph?" Aang panted.

Katara jerked her head to one side in reply. Her voice was broken with the effort of running. "I sent them – they're outside, getting Appa."

A loud shot echoed off in the background somewhere. Without saying a word, both Katara and Aang sped up a little. Her hair loopies bounced about her face, mixing with sweat and flinging around to the beat of her footsteps. The hall was stifling hot, though she wasn't surprised about this particular detail; Firebenders lurked in all areas of this palace.

"Hide?" Aang asked. He turned his head back to look at her.

"Yeah," she answered. "But where – oh! Look!"

Katara flung her arm out and pointed at a looming door on the side of the wall. Skidding to a halt outside it and nearly knocking Aang over in the process, Katara wrenched the door open and shoved Aang roughly inside; he let out a small shout of surprise. Then, after taking a quick glance around to make sure that nobody had seen, she closed the door.

The room – a small closet, from what she had gathered in the previous seconds – was plunged into complete and total darkness. Her fingers fumbled blindly for the door handle, and she spent a few seconds latching the various locks on the door while trying to catch her breath.

"That was close," Aang breathed, voice rasping.

Katara's skin prickled; his voice had been right in her ear, to the point where she had felt a distinct breath on the side of her face. Alarmed and slightly embarrassed, Katara turned around with some difficulty and realized then just how small the room was.

"Yeah," she replied, glad the darkness kept her blush invisible, "close is a good word for it."

Aang shifted against her, clearly just as uncomfortable as she. "I've got a –" he broke off at the sound of footsteps running down the hall. Katara felt him tense up, felt his breath hitch in his throat, until the steps faded away in a clanging of noisy armor. "– a bucket."

"What?" she hissed, confused. How close were their faces, anyway?

"Poking my back," he clarified.

"Oh, right. Here, turn left – no, my left – good. Does that feel better?"

She felt him shift again, as if trying to wedge an inch of space between their crammed-together bodies. Not sure what to do with her arms, she merely let them hang there, limp and useless.

"How long should we wait here?" she asked after a brief silence.

He shrugged. "I don't know. A little while."

"Okay." Strange as it sounded, Katara couldn't help but find the rumble of his chest comforting as he spoke. It was almost lulling. She yawned and tilted her head backwards against the wall for support.

"Yeah…" his voice trailed off now as huge yawn engulfed him as well. Aang slouched his shoulders a bit in an attempt to become more comfortable with the awkward situation. The beating of his heart – slowing now that they were in a safe place – was like a metronome, counting the seconds until they could escape.

Minutes passed. Occasionally a soldier would run past, not bothering to check the tiny closet. Aang's head fell forward, his jaw resting on her shoulder. Katara closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. If they were going to be stuck here in this awkward position, she thought, they might as well be comfortable.

And besides, she couldn't think of better company.

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/N: Curse my addiction to cliche plotlines! -Scowl- 

I was going to write more on it, but I thought that it should end there. Not sure why, but this story made me sleeeepyyy...

_Written in about an hour on MSWord._


	9. A Bad Place

A/N: I go away for a long time and all you get is this stupid oneshot. Seriously, though, this is pretty much all I wrote during my hiatus. I wrote something else as well, but I can't decide whether to keep it as it is or continue it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Happy Reading!

* * *

A Bad Place

I'm not in the best situation at the moment. If word gets out of what's going on in my head, everything that I've worked for could be over in a matter of hours. The entire situation is incredibly difficult to explain; I don't even know what I'm feeling, and am not able to properly describe it. I just… don't even know where to start. I'm not the best politician, and the people here aren't exactly the most welcoming I've ever met in my entire life. I miss my life back in the South Pole, where one could just be happy with a simple jacket and maybe some stewed sea prunes. But I'm here now, though I don't know how much longer I'll be able to stay, and everything in my head had been rearranged. To be honest, I'm not even sure how I got here in the first place.

This whole messy ordeal started a few years after the war. I was in love. You see, for the longest time I had been waiting for my real hero, my prince, the one man who would take me up in his arms and carry me off to some faraway place, where I could discover new things and meet people and do everything I'd fantasized as a child. Call me a hopeless romantic if you like, but it actually happened. My one true love came, swept me off my feet quite literally, and took me away to a faraway place. And guess what? He was even a real prince. Our post-war euphoria took away my rational, cautious thought and replaced it with sheer joy. We were in love, or so I thought.

So why, after all the good things that have happened to me, am I not happy? Zuko loves me; he would never hurt me, not even under the direst circumstance, but still I don't find myself smiling anymore, never laughing. The answer can be summed up in one word, one measly syllable that keeps me awake at night while the Fire Lord sleeps beside me: Aang. Aang the Avatar, who I had grown up with, fought beside, and waited for since I was young enough to learn about the great Airbenders.

How could I not have realized, back in the beginning, my feelings for the boy? He'd done, at the age of twelve, all of those things I'd always yearned for as a child. He'd swept me off my feet and brought me across the entire world, where I met some of my best friends (as well as my present husband) and learned so much about the world. He'd saved my life, the lives of my people, and the world! My hopes and dreams of finding the Avatar had somehow become intertwined with my desire for true love as soon as I'd rescued him from the iceberg. He wasn't a prince, no, but he was more honorable than any royalty I had ever met, and I had met quite a few. In fact, he still is. At this very moment, he is asleep down the hall in the palace, which he had come to visit for government matters. Never in my life has he seemed so far away as he does right now.

The answer is clear. Aang had placed what he had had to offer right on the table, he'd laid it out in front of me, and I had turned him down for something I had not fully understood. The fling I had experienced with Zuko had turned to steam and blown away, leaving me unhappy, and he wondering what he'd done to take the smile out of my eyes. I cannot bear the burden of two men, though, and I cannot break the fragile heart that I had taken so much pride in mending. I will spend the rest of my day as Fire Lady, raising children and wondering what a newborn Airbender would have been like, and I can now tell you one thing for certain: you don't know what you have until it's gone.

Royalty and wealth aren't substitutes for true, unconditional love.

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/N: Yes, that was Katara. Yes, I realize that this was a crappy excuse for a story. I figured the only way she would get with Zuko would be in the post-war euphoria, when she let her guard down. Of course, then she'd realize what she really wanted all along. 

Someday I shall post my other one here as well.


	10. What's in a Name?

A/N: I don't know why this came into my head. It just did, and it made me laugh. I hope it makes you laugh, too. :D

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

What's in a Name?

"So, what do you think?"

Sokka looked down at his wife and thoughtfully stroked his chin. "It definitely looks like a Sokka Junior to me."

Scoffing, Toph replied, "Well it walks like a Toph junior to me. And it has attitude."

"…Just like a Sokka junior."

"That's a dumb name!"

"Hey! That's _my_ name, in case you don't remember!"

Toph rolled her unseeing eyes and crossed her arms. "Look, Snoozles," she said. "You said I could name it when the time came, and I want it to be called 'Toph'. It just suits him."

"I disagree," Sokka answered, looking down at the being in question. "Besides, it's a guy. Guys need to have manly names, don't they?"

"Toph can be a manly name."

"No, it can't, Toph. I'm sorry, but that's the natural order of things."

Toph frowned. "Well, here come Twinkletoes and Sugar Queen. Maybe they can knock some sense into you before I have to do it myself." She cracked her knuckles. Sokka winced, but nevertheless turned towards the doorway, through which Aang and Katara entered moments later.

"Hey guys," Aang greeted them cheerfully.

A little flying lemur hopped from his shoulder onto Katara's and chattered loudly. Another, which sat on her head, batted playfully at its brother. "Have you thought of a name for your lemur yet?"

"Toph," stated Toph, just as Sokka said "Sokka."

Sokka crossed his arms a looked down at Toph in annoyance. The Earthbender stomped one foot on the ground, causing a large rock to leap out of the ground in front of her husband. Sokka shouted out in surprise and fell backwards, and the rock flew over his head and out of sight. Their nameless lemur bounded after it.

"Ah, I see," said Katara, shooting Aang a sidelong glance.

"Well," began Aang thoughtfully, "What if you combine your names? You could call him… Tokka."

Sokka sat up and rubbed his head as he clambered to his feet. "Tokka, huh? I like it."

Toph nodded as she considered this. "Hmm… I like it, too. It has a good ring to it." She held out her hand to her husband and he shook it.

"Tokka it is, then!" He said, relieved that he liked the name and didn't have to fight Toph to get it.

Katara beamed at Aang, who grinned back and gave a small shrug. "All in a day's work for the Avatar, I guess."

Giggling, Katara took his hand in hers and they began out of the room. As they exited through the doorway, though, Sokka could have sworn he'd heard Katara say, "What do you think of 'Kataang' for our lemur?"

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/N: Stupid, yes, but I love poking fun at shipping names. I was going to stick other names in there somewhere, but then I thought it would be best to stick to my two favorites. x3 


	11. The Avatar Returns

A/N: Yes, I did steal the title of episode 102 for this oneshot. I am completely aware of this. :) (Hee hee, that smiley makes me laugh).

I owe you all some Kataang, even if it is subtle.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

The Avatar Returns

Sokka had been the first to know. Urgent and excited whispers filled the thin South Pole air until they reached his attentive ears. Then, when the speck on the horizon became life-sized, he took off. Pushing through the clusters of people that had begun forming around the landing point, he made his way through the now labyrinthine city until he finally came upon a familiar door. He pushed it open without a second thought, scrambled inside, and stopped.

"Katara!" His breaths stopped turning to a visible vapor as he stepped further into the house. "Katara, are you there?"

Moments later, a slender woman of twenty-one stepped through the doorway with a young child balanced on one hip. Her face, which was young but tired, as if she had been under a great deal of stress, held an expression of alarm. She leaned against the icy doorframe to better support the child that she held.

"What is it?"

Sokka bent over to regain his breath, hands on knees, for a few moments before looking up at his sister. "He's back. He's – he's here."

Katara's expression changed to one of shocked disbelief. "What?" When he nodded, she straightened up and clapped a hand to her mouth. The young child, a boy, stared curiously up at her with drool bubbling from its lips, and tried to snatch at one of her hair loopies. "Now?"

"Right now." Sokka stepped forward and took the young child from her arms. "We'll be faster if I carry Kulo – yeah, I'm talking to you," he added to the boy, for the child had looked up at the sound of his name.

With that, he allowed Katara to help Kulo clamber onto Sokka's back before he took off with Katara in hot pursuit.

The crowd had become enormous. Nevertheless, when people looked over their shoulders and saw Katara and Sokka trying to make their way through, many parted to let them pass. Sokka removed Kulo from his back and passed him off to Katara so the warrior could better clear a path through the swarm of a crowd.

"All right, move it! Companions of the Avatar coming through!"

So the young child would not get hurt as she picked her way through the crowd, Katara held his head to her shoulder with one hand. She wondered if he could feel the rapid beating of her heart, or if he even knew that something important – monumentally so – was occurring that had not occurred since before he had been born. Katara was winded from her run through the city, but nothing could keep her back now. She had waited too long for this very moment.

Finally, a looming object appeared in the center of the gathering. It was an object that she happened to know well, a fluffy white object carrying somebody that she also happened to know well. A young man clad in an orange overcoat with long sleeves, a long, yellow tunic underneath, and a yellow waistband, had his back turned to her as he leapt down from the saddle and gave his animal companion a gratuitous pat. Already she felt her eyes brimming with tears. She quickened her pace; Sokka was far ahead of her, and Kulo seemed to have gained a hundred pounds since she'd arrived in the center of the city.

The young man turned and greeted those nearest to him with a polite smile, but his eyes moved across the faces of the expectant people, as if searching.

"Aang! Hey, Aang!"

Sokka shoved a married couple in opposite directions as he burst forth from the flock of spectators. Aang's face brightened.

"Sokka!"

Both men ran forward and shared a brotherly embrace. Katara's heart leapt to her throat at the sound of his voice. He'd matured in appearance and sound, but to her he was just the same as he had been when he'd left for his Avatarly duties nearly three years previous.

At long last, Katara gently squeezed between the same stumbling couple that Sokka had nearly knocked over, and stopped in the clearing. Aang looked up from his embrace and nearly jumped at the sight of her. Sokka stepped back, grinning, and waited for a reaction. The Avatar's smile, though, at the sight of that child in Katara's arms, seemed to wane. He stared from her to the young boy in her arms, eyes filled with question and uncertainty. Katara smiled; reading Aang's mind as she had always been able to do, she turned around and handed Kulo to his mother and father, who were still straightening up from having almost been knocked over. Then, without pause, Katara turned and slowly approached Aang.

"Hi, Aang," she began. Her voice was small, quivering.

She and Aang stopped at the same time, a half-foot space and a lot of tension between them. He laughed slightly and scratched the back of his neck in his good-natured way.

"Hey Katara," he breathed. She was amazed at how the Avatar, the man who had faced dangers greater than any other, seemed almost meek when he stood before her. "I thought for a moment that –" His eyes darted to Kulo.

Katara managed a weak laugh. "You know me, Aang; I've always been the babysitter. And besides –" they both took a step forward, but stopped before their bodies touched, "– I was waiting." She grazed the tips of her fingers along the pendant of her own engagement necklace – one that she had worn since the day he'd left. "For you."

Now he reached up and gently touched the side of her face. Katara closed her eyes, a shiver coursed through her body in all her anticipation. In a whirl of emotion and color, he'd taken her up in her arms and locked her in a tight embrace. The choked sob that she had been holding back for nearly three years escaped from deep within her chest as she clung to him. Everything she'd known seemed surreal now. Nothing else mattered as long as this moment was real. The crowd had burst into a round of deafening applause.

"We made it," she choked. Her arms somehow found a familiar place around his neck, though she was forced almost to her tiptoes.

Aang pulled back from the hug and stared down at Katara with a look of wonder upon his face. His storm gray eyes full of concern and love, he gently wiped away her tear with his thumb and offered a thrilled smile. Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed her on the mouth. A wolf-whistle came from Sokka's direction, followed by more applause by the audience. Aang broke the kiss and rested his forehead on hers.

"I never doubted that we would," he answered. They both smiled at one another. "Not even for a second."

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/N: The ending was written to the sound of DJ Sammy's "Heaven" candlelight remix. That's why it was so sappy. 

And I don't know why Sokka was all alone. I found his lack of Toph both saddening and fitting. You can pretend that she (1) didn't want to live in the South Pole, or (2) she died from Sokka's _Kiss of Death_. Use your imaginations and have a nice day.

The description of Aang's clothes is courtesy of ASN.


	12. Home

A/N: I know, I've dropped off the face of the earth, and when I come back this is all you get.

A little explanation: I was reading a story out of my favorite Tokka collection, and the story just happened to have some Zutara in it. Needless to say, I felt that I needed to get the Kataang flowing in my veins again, so I wrote this.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

Home

The night was dark and calm, with only a light breeze stirring the clothes that hung on the line out back. A full moon hung, silvery and orblike, in the sky, making all the stars seem to fade into nothing. Trusty staff in hand, Aang stepped on light feet up the walkway and stopped just outside the door of his home. He reached up one arrowed hand and placed it, palm-down, on the door. He hadn't opened this door in months, as he had been arranging meetings in the Fire Nation. Katara had so wanted to join him on his journey, but she hadn't been able to because the trip was what he had called 'risky'. But he was home now, and he couldn't help but feel a little nervous as he took a deep breath and opened the door.

The light of the moon vanished as Aang gently pushed the door shut, and he was plunged into darkness. A small, indistinguishable murmur escaped the Avatar's lips; he couldn't see a thing. Carefully, as to avoid bumping into anything that would make a loud noise, Aang moved forward. His plan was to find a comfortable spot on the floor to sleep, as he didn't want to rouse Katara from her sleep until morning came. From what he understood, she had little to no idea of when he would be returning home.

A small sound over to his left caused him to cease motion. His ears instinctively tingled, listening for any sound whatsoever, but there was none. After a few moments, he dared to whisper, "Is anybody there?"

Still no reply came. Puzzled and slightly apprehensive for reasons he did not understand, Aang stepped forward. Then, as he made to take another step, a strange sound – like cracking ice, he thought – filled his ears, and he found that he could no longer pick up his feet. Next, a warm, flickering light appeared in the corner of the room. Standing there, in a fighting position with candle in hand and hair falling around shoulders, was –

"Katara!" Aang's one word came out as a choked whisper. He made to dart forward, but the ice around his feet caught him off guard and he just barely managed to keep from falling.

When Katara saw that she was in no danger, she set the candle down on the table and closed her eyes in relief, one hand over her heart and the other resting on her pregnant belly. "Oh my," she breathed, "I thought somebody was breaking in. But Aang, you're _home!_"

The ice around Aang's feet melted away into a puddle, but he didn't stop to clean it up off the floor. His eyes were now set on hers, his heart racing in his chest and somehow in his throat, too, because it had been far too long. He finally reached his pregnant wife and took her up in his arms, loving the familiar scent of her hair and the feel of her soft skin on the side of his face. He kissed her forehead and smiled down at her.

"Home," he breathed. "It's been so long."

She nodded. "Sokka said you weren't going to be home for another month – I was so sure you were going to miss the baby."

At this, Aang let go of his wife and dropped to his knees. He pressed his lips to her stomach and closed his eyes for a brief moment before looking up.

"I can't believe I missed all this." He shook his head in disappointment.

Katara chuckled. "I guess we'll just have to do it all over again later, huh?"

The Avatar grinned. "Absolutely."

Aang closed his eyes and placed one of his hands on the center of her stomach. Concentrated on his thought, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Moments later, the blue arrow on his hand glowed white. Katara didn't gasp, though; she was used to this sort of thing.

After a few seconds, Aang opened his eyes and the glowing ceased. "A Bender," he breathed, grinning. "I can feel it."

"Really? That's great!"

"Yeah. I can figure out if it'll be a boy or a girl too, if you want."

Katara paused. "Only if you want to."

They shared a brief look. Aang then shook his head and Airbended himself to his feet. "No," he said. "I like surprises."

Katara laughed and hugged him around the middle, pressing the side of her face into his chest just so she could feel his heart beating. "Me too," she said, "Just not this early in the morning." She looked up at him and smiled warmly and picked up the candle from the table. "Come on, you need sleep. You've been traveling for days. How are Appa and Momo?"

Aang took Katara's hand and they started for bed together. "They're good," he said. "Tired from the trip, but glad to be home. Like me."

At this, Katara tried to stifle a yawn and failed. Grinning, for he was thrilled to be home to enjoy the little things, Aang put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him as they walked. At the moment, neither of them cared about what was going to happen in the future. Neither cared what the weather would be like, or that Sokka would slip on the water on the floor when he strolled in the next morning, or even that Aang would burn breakfast. At the moment, neither cared about anything other than one another, and that feeling one feels when a loved one returns safely home.

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/N: Yep, that's about it. You know Aang liked Katara's idea of doing this whole baby thing all over again. xD 

The story itself wasn't the greatest, but I was in the mood for some sweet Kataang love without much kissing and stuff.

Thanks for reading!


	13. Preview

A/N: I've been working on two separate stories, each with the potential to be my 100th, so don't give up on me! This is a segment from the former that I mentioned, just to give you an idea.

**A very brief synopsis of thus far**: Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Toph have donned disguises and entered the Fire Nation, where they have a small home. Why are they there? Well, in Book Three, they are supposed go infiltrate the Fire Nation, and I can only assume that getting a house and being inconspicuous would be the way to do it. Toph is pretending to be blind, while the others act as if they cannot Bend at all. Needless to say, Aang is a little on the distressed side. The war has been hard on him, and at this point he is separated from Appa (although he knows where Appa is, and that he is safe), so he is not the happiest of kids. Their attitudes are slightly different at this point due to the many things that have happened to them on the road. I think that's pretty much all you need to know in order to understand this segment.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

Preview Segment from "Fire Nation Infiltration"

When Katara came out of the house and looked around the yard, it didn't take her very long to find him. Ever since they'd arrived here in the Fire Nation, he'd been more distant, more morose. The air was hot and sticky as it always was here – too hot and humid for him, she thought. Aang had grown up in windy temples and rolled around, clad in nothing more than his regular apparel, in deep snow. The heat wasn't going much for the young Avatar's mood, at any rate.

Bare feet kicking up dust on the wooden floor, Katara strode to the end of the back porch and looked out over the yard. Down the sloping lawn and across a small creek was Aang. He stood with his hands grasping the metal chain-linked fence that marked the end of their property, his eyes staring out into the vastness that was the last of the suburban Fire Nation. Katara stepped down the stairs and made her way across the yard to where Aang stood in silence.

After leaping lightly over the narrow creek and taking a few paces across the lawn (never stopping to indulge in the fresh grass beneath her feet, because the days of simple enjoyment were long gone), she stopped about a foot behind her companion. He made no notion of her arrival.

"Hi Aang," she said, timidly.

"Hey Katara." He sounded tired, she mused darkly.

She took a few hesitant steps forward until she was beside him. "Toph and Sokka are having dinner." She paused, thinking. "Come on inside where it's cooler," It was not a demand.

Aang's response was not quite what he may have said so long ago.

"This fence isn't very high," he said. Katara said nothing; his statement was true enough. "I could have jumped over it once, but I can't remember the last time I Airbended."

A breeze wafted by, but it was a warm one. The absence of hair loopies blowing about her face made Katara's frown deepen as she stared at Aang, whose red shirt clung to his torso as his hair hung, matted, in his sweaty face. She cast a furtive glance over to her left, where she could barely see her neighbor's house in the distance, before reaching up and placing her hand on his back. She brushed his hair off the back of his neck with her two fingers, then traced them down his spine, leaving a small trail of ice crystals in her wake. A distinct chill ran up his spine, but she couldn't tell whether it was because the refreshing ice or her touch.

"It's like… like a part of me is gone," he murmured, his eyes darting to her for only a moment. His hands, gloved halfway up his fingers to hide the blue arrows that she missed so much, gripped tighter the fence in front of him. "I'm stuck on this side of the world with this fence as the barrier, and I can't jump over it like I used to. I just feel so… so _helpless_."

"I understand, Aang," she answered.

Silence engulfed them. Katara allowed Aang to have this quiet moment in honor of the things that he had lost along his journey. Then, after the moment had passed, she deemed the time appropriate to bring her point of view into the argument.

Katara turned to face the Avatar. "Cup your hands together," she said.

He turned to face her, one eyebrow raised. "What?"

She nodded. "You're going to give me a boost."

Aang stared for a few seconds, and then finally released the fence from his grasp. He cupped his hands together and she put one foot in the spot he had made.

"Ready?" She said, "and up!"

With a small grunt, Aang hoisted Katara upwards. She grabbed onto the fence and pulled herself up with her arms until her head was over the top, being careful not to put too much weight on her bare feet, lest they ache from the fence's thin metal. Smiling, she looked down at him.

"See, Aang? It's not so hard." Katara let go of the fence and leapt down. Aang automatically reached out and grabbed her hand, as if this would help to break her fall. "It might be hard to do on your own, especially if you don't have any available advantage, but when we work together –" she squeezed his hand and let go "– we can get over any obstacle."

Aang stared. Then, at long last, a small smile crept upon his face; she hadn't seen the sight in so long that she was almost surprised. "Thank you, Katara," he said.

Katara brushed back his hair to reveal the arrow on his forehead. She smiled again, lightly tracing the blue outline with one finger before letting his hair fall back again. "I knew Aang was still in there somewhere. Now come on." She grabbed his hand and began pulling him back towards the house. "You've got to get something to eat before Toph and Sokka finish off the rest of the dinner I made. I don't think you want to wait until tomorrow to eat, do you?"

She looked down at him and he looked back with an admiration in his eyes that she hadn't seen in a long time. Smiling, Katara set her eyes back on the house. Perhaps it wasn't all over yet.

-

Fin.

* * *

A/N: I hope you got the symbolism there, with the fence and stuff. If not, then I need to do some work. xD 

I'd like to take this moment to thank my awesome reviewers, as this is the first of my Avatar stories/collections to break 100 reviews. I know I don't ask or beg for reviews in my posts, but, like all fan fiction writers, I appreciate each and every one. You great people are the fuel that run my creative engine!

Thanks again, and I hope you enjoyed this!


	14. FWFAEULHA

A/N: This oneshot should not be taken seriously in the slightest. Seriously, I wrote it off the top of my head in a forum because I, like many others, find Aang's Earthbending to be rather... attractive, you could say. Our group calls itself _Fangirls (and boys)-Who-Find-Aang's-Earthbending-an-Unhealthy Level-of-Hawt Anonymous_, or FWFAEULHA for short. I wasn't going to post it at all, but Isabel thought that some of you might enjoy it, so here you go!

Again, I beg you not to take this seriously. xD

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

FWFAEULHA

Aang walked into the kitchen, where Katara stood, preparing dinner. He walked up to the counter, back straight and head tall, and stopped just beside her.

"Hey Katara," he said. While his voice sounded the same, there was something in it that made her turn to face him.

"Hey Aang," she said, offering a small smile. "Everything okay?"

Aang smacked his lips and leaned his back against the counter, as if bored. "Yeah, I was just practicing some Earthbending with Toph," he said.

Katara let out a gasp as the knife slipped in her hand and she narrowly avoided cutting her finger off. "Oops," she laughed nervously, picking up the knife again and continuing her job. "Sorry." She looked at him again. "What were you saying?"

At this, Aang smirked and opened his hand to reveal a large stone. He Earthbended it into the air and began to mess around with it nonchalantly. Katara watched without realizing that she had set the knife down on the counter or that she was staring, or even that she had begun to drool...

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/N: And that's about it. Also, for those of you who don't have me on author alert, I finished the follow-up to that preview that I posted last entry. It's called Fire Nation Infiltration, in case you wanted to know. 

Thanks for putting up with my silliness!


	15. Identity Loss

A/n: You are about to witness the fruits of my being cracked out on no sleep. Enjoy. :)

Additionally, you can connect this story to _Memory_, if you like. I think you guys are smart enough to figure the rest out.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

Identity Loss

It were as if she walked in a dream. She couldn't figure out why these two men with faces shadowed by hats flanked her on either side, why they kept iron grips on her upper arms, or why the air was so stale and rotten, but her instincts told her that none of it was good. A large, solid metal door opened up, and the two solemn men didn't bother taking care as they flung her through the doorway and left again without a word. She gasped in pain, the floor striking her knees, and rolled over on the ground so that she faced the plain ceiling. A solid thud and a click came from behind her. The door was locked, and she was trapped inside.

The next few minutes passed slowly. She allowed herself to lie there on the ground, unmoving, because she didn't know what else she could do. After a little while, though, she picked herself up off the ground and sat up, only to fall back again when a shooting pain ran through her hands.

She inhaled sharply and looked down at her hands. Both were red, bloody, and raw around the wrists, as if she had been struggling from the talonlike grip of shackles; she placed one hand under the other and examined the wound. This thought puzzled her; why had she been struggling, anyway? Had she done something to displease those men that had thrown her in the room so carelessly? Before she'd had a moment to ponder this thought, a voice off to her right frightened her.

"I have those, too."

She looked up, instinctively bringing her hand to her chest in a protective manner. When she saw that it was not one of the menacing men, though, she raised her eyebrows in a surprised manner. "Oh, hello," she said. "What did you say?"

Across the room, slumped against the bare wall and looking oddly blank, was a boy. He couldn't have been much older than she, she deduced; only a year or two at most. His skin was dark like hers, his clothes the same shade of blue. His head was shaved, save for the hair on top of his head, which was pulled back and tied. However, his hair was straggled as if he had been in a fight. No smile graced his more or less handsome face, which bore a nasty-looking gash just above his eyebrow, amongst other bruises.

"Hello," he answered. His voice was almost indifferent, tinged with an edge of sadness that she could feel in her heart. "I already took care of mine." He held up his arms, where she could see that he had tied wrapping around his wrists. Still, they were tinged with red where blood had soaked through his fast work. "Do you want me to do yours?"

Nodding, she scrambled to her knees and shuffled across the floor until she was just in front of him. She offered her arms to him, wrists upward.

"What's your name?" she asked.

He paused before he answered in a low voice, "I don't know. What about you?"

"I…" she trailed off. "I don't know, either. I don't know, well, anything."

The boy raised one eyebrow in a considering sense. He reached out and took her hand, eyes drifting across her injury. "That makes two of us."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a strip of white cloth. Fingers gentle, he wrapped the cloth around her open wounds, being careful not to reopen the cuts. Still, she winced at his touch. He apologized quietly.

"It's okay," she replied.

While she waited, she tried to take her mind off the bloody cuts by glancing around the room. It was completely empty from ceiling to floor, and made of what looked like cement. No windows lined the walls, and the only door was the one that she had been more or less thrown through. A small tug on her left wrist told her that the boy had begun tying the bandage cloth. She winced again.

After the boy had finished wrapping both of her wrists, she sat back and sighed. "So, how long have you been here?"

"About fifteen minutes."

"Oh." She was taken aback slightly. For some reason, his demeanor had given her the impression that he had been here for quite some time. "Do you know how long we'll be here, or _why_ we're here?"

"No," he said. "I don't know anything at all about this place, or anything. It's like I just… appeared here, like I was born again and skipped to the age I am now (whatever _that_ is). I can read, write, and bandage injuries, but it's like a part of my brain has been erased."

She paused, staring at him. He seemed almost familiar in a way, but she supposed everything would feel like that until she got her memory back. It was a strange feeling, not knowing who you were or what you were doing in a strange place like this. She knew that she must have existed before this, but not a single memory resided within her mind's grasp.

"I – " she began to reply, but at that moment a click sounded from behind them. She turned towards the door, saw that it had opened, and saw two of those men dressed in dark green uniform.

As the two men approached, she scrambled backwards until she nearly crashed into the boy, who prevented this by putting one hand up and holding it out so that she would collide with his hand rather than his body.

One of the guards spoke. "You there, boy," he said, "Come with us."

Wordlessly, the boy stood up and began to join the guards. She reached out and grabbed his arm in an attempt to stop him. He half turned around and looked down upon her where she sat on the ground, and nodded once.

"I'll be fine," he assured her.

"But –"

"Don't worry about me." This time, his voice was a little more forceful, yet somehow still kind.

She let go of his arm and nodded. He turned and began walking away with the guards, who each grabbed one of his upper arms as they went. A great sorrow welled up inside her chest. This boy was the first one she'd met in the world, and she hated to see him go again without assurance that they would, at least, meet again.

"It was nice meeting you," she called to his retreating back.

The boy turned his head and opened his mouth to reply, but the guard on his right gave his arm a hard jerk and he was forced to turn forward again. The trio left the room through the open door. She watched as they disappeared and winced as the door slammed shut behind them, clicking locked as it did so.

A sigh settled upon the room. She was alone in the world again, without ever her identity to keep her company.

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/N: I seem to have become rather intrigued by memory loss, as you may have read in my conveniently titled story, _Memory_. At any rate, I hope this is the last installment off this theme, as I don't want it to get too old.

And wow, a story without romantic innuendo. I must be dreaming.

Thanks for reading!


	16. Coming Around

A/N: I found this today, attempted to finish it, and found that my inspiration had died. So I left it as it was and posted it here for you to laugh at.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

Coming Around 

She was there when he first came around. It was almost funny, the way she seemed to be there every time he opened his eyes after some sort of trauma. First the iceberg, then that time he'd ridden on the Unagi, then after Azula hit him with lightning, and now. Exhausted, Aang opened his eyes and offered Katara the smallest of smiles. In return, she smiled back and brushed the backs of her fingers against his forehead.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

Aang closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he answered, "Like I've been asleep for about a week."

"Hmm…"

This response was what Aang had been expecting. His brows furrowed. "How long _have_ I been asleep?" he asked, concerned.

Katara's smile was just short of wry. "Since you fell asleep or since you regained consciousness?"

"Is there a difference?" Aang asked, opening his eyes and watching Katara in his peripheral vision.

"Yes, there is," said Katara. She disappeared from his vision, then appeared a moment later with a cloth in hand. "When somebody – you, most of the time – is unconscious, chances are the person isn't breathing and may not have a pulse. You had a pulse, but breathing was causing you a whole lot of pain." She Bended a thin layer of ice onto the cloth and gave Aang a somewhat amused look. It was a bittersweet thing for him to see. "It was scary. It reminded me of when Azula hit you with the lightning, only…"

Aang stopped listening to what she was saying as her words blurred together. She wouldn't mind – he could tell that she was just talking for the sake of talking and making him feel better. And anyway, it was making him feel better; the sound of her voice itself was a relief all in its own.

Katara, still talking small talk about Aang's injuries, placed the chilly cloth on his brow. He smiled. She hadn't doted upon him like this in a long time – since the fall of Ba Sing Se, he thought. After that, he had really started to train more than ever before with both Katara and Toph –

_Toph_.

Aang made to sit up all of a sudden, but Katara pushed him back down onto the mess of blankets. "Katara, what happened to Toph and Sokka? Are they alright?"

Katara rolled her eyes in an amused sort of way and answered, "I already _told_ you, Aang. Toph and Sokka are fine. You're not listening to me, are you?"

Relieved, Aang let himself relax again. "No, I'm listening to you. Honestly, I am."

"Oh really?"

"Mhmm."

"Then what did I say?"

"Ah." Aang closed his eyes and winced a little at a pain in his arm. "You said… that Toph and Sokka are fine, and that I was unconscious."

"You weren't listening."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry."

-

_Fin. (?)_

* * *

A/N: I should have titled this "Half-Arsed Piece of Appa Poo" because that's how I feel about it. The beginning was alright, and the middle was good, but the ending is just so... abrupt. Meh. I just hate to see a short story with potential die like this, but sometimes it happens. I have eleven other dead stories in my "Unfinished" folder as well. D: 

If you are inspired to write an ending to this oneshot, send me a PM or an email and we'll chat.


	17. Party At Roku's!

A/N: This idea has been floating about in my brain for ages, but I haven't had enough sugar coursing through my veins until now, so it's never been written. It's not as long or as epic as I'd originally hoped, but I like the concept enough to make up for it.

Extra Avatar names from Arcanger, and Kuruk's robes from Crystle, both on Kataang Forever.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

Party at Roku's!

_Ding dong!_

The doorbell rang, just barely audible over the commotion in the room. Avatar Yangchen looked around the room at all the chatting people, deduced that nobody was going to get it, and sighed.

"Here, hold this," she said in exasperation, thrusting a bowl of popping corn onto the lap of the person beside her so she could stand. "I'll get the door."

Ignoring the man's grumbles as he stuffed the food into his mouth, Yangchen crossed the room, shouldering many a partygoer out of the way in the process, and opened the front door.

"Ah, Kuruk! Ummi! It's nice to see you." She bowed to the Water Tribe Avatar and his newly-found wife. "Your robes are lovely, Kuruk; are they new?"

"Sure are! Ummi sewed them herself." Kuruk stepped into the room with his wife gripping her husband's elbow, her expression semi-worrisome. The expression of Kuruk, however, was just short of wolfish.

"Did I miss anything good?" he asked the Airbender, brushing his long, dark blue Water Tribe robes as if they were caked with some sort of Spirit World dust. "Last time we got together I nearly missed the Ozai confrontation!"

Yangchen shook her head. "No, we're only just about to start. I think the confession might be coming up, though. I was talking to Kyoshi and she said that –"

She was cut off, mid sentence, when the loud voice of Avatar Sukkasi pierced the sounds of the crowded room.

"Hey, everybody! I think he's going to ask her soon!"

A sudden hush came over the crowd for a brief moment before the room erupted into excited whispers. Then, the people in the room quickly began to make their way over to the flat screen television that stood, mounted on Avatar Roku's wall. Avatar Illia and a large Earth Kingdom Avatar ended their conversation and scrambled across the room. Avatars Kyoshi and Sik stopped their game of beer pong, made a quick promise to continue the game later, and also joined the crowd.

Once the guests had, for the most part, settled, Roku stood up. In one hand he held the television remote, and in the other hand he held a cup of tea.

"Tonight is a very special night for Avatar Aang. He does not yet know it, but he will be confirming his love to Katara of the Water Tribe tonight via Water Tribe-style proposal. As you all know, this is a monumental moment in every Avatar's life. A proposal is binding –"

"Yeah, just look at Avatar Ai and Prince Ka'Atara over there," Kuruk whispered to Yangchen, jerking his head in the direction of a rather busy-looking couple in the corner. Yangchen smirked. "Now _that's_ a binding relationship. They haven't stopped snogging since I got here."

"– and it is an important moment in every Avatar's life," Roku finished. "So let the moment begin!"

The past Avatars and their spouses cheered. On that note, Avatar Roku plopped down between two female Avatars (both single), and clicked on the television. The live footage of Avatar Aang began to play on the screen.

_The boy, now roughly sixteen, paced back and forth among the trees of an Earth Kingdom woods. He held a necklace in one hand - a necklace with a blue pendant dangling from it, and ran his other hand over his head in a nervous fashion._

Fire Nation Avatar Amaya leaned across Yangchen and smiled at Kuruk's wife. "By the way, Ummi, you look _fabulous_! I'm glad you got your face back – Kuruk here wasn't quite the same without you."

Ummi smiled a shy smile. "Thank you. It was very difficult to get rid of the acne after Koh had used my face for so long without washing, but I'm glad to be back."

Kuruk batted Amaya out of the way with one hand, his eyes glued to the television. "Will you two ladies shush? Katara's just walked in on Aang while he's trying to rehearse his proposal!"

Both the women's eyes widened and they turned, anxious, to the television again.

_Aang and Katara stared at one another for a moment until Aang hastily hid the necklace behind his back. _

"_Oh, h-hey Katara," he stammered._

"_Is everything okay, Aang?" asked Katara, one brow raised questioningly. "You were talking to yourself."_

"_Was I? I mean, no I wasn't!" The Airbender stumbled over his words, looking very much as if he'd like to disappear._

"Oh jeez, can you believe this?" exclaimed Avatar Kyoshi with an annoyed wave of her hand towards the television. "The kid's a wreck – now he's trying to convince the girl that he's never said a word in his life!"

"Oh, give him a break," snapped Avatar Kiyodu. He threw a handful of popcorn at the Avatar. "It's not like _you_ know what it's like to propose. It's tough stuff!"

"Will you all just shut up already! I'm trying to watch the proposal!"

With that comment from an incensed Air Nomad, the room fell silent again, save for Avatar Aang's feeble attempts at covering up his story.

-

"Wow, what a great night, huh?" Said Kuruk from where he sat on the ground, picking up kernels of popping corn.

Kyoshi gave a slightly drunken hiccough as she straightened a cushion on the couch. "Yeah, all things said and done. It could have gone a little smoother, but what can I say? The kid knows what he's doing."

"Indeed," Roku agreed. He stood up straight and stretched his back. "Well, there's still plenty to watch. It is only a matter of time before the brother finds out."

Yangchen laughed quietly to herself. "Now _that_ will be something to remember."

_-_

_Fin._

* * *

A/n: Yes, I did write it slightly (and by "slightly" I mean "really") out of character on purpose; there's no need to inform me of this. 

Sorry if it was too stupid or random for your liking. Please don't hurt me! -Hides-

Also, this is an official pimp for my website. Go there for updates on my writings and what have you.

Oh, and thanks for reading!


	18. Reflections

A/N: This oneshot was written to the sound of the Titanic Instrumental Piano Theme on repeat. It took me four rounds of the song to finish, and surprisingly enough, it didn't fight me at all. Actually, I wondered for a moment whether I was going to shed a tear while writing it. I think I'm going to leave my end author's note as blank as possible, just to leave you with the proper feeling.

Perhaps I should consume copious amounts of sugar more often. It really puts my brain in motion.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

Reflections

It's funny, really. One of those wonders of life, that Katara can be gone and yet I remain, when the chances were quite the opposite. Sometimes I still feel that aching sadness tugging at my heart; I don't think it's one of those things that ever go away completely, you know. No matter what I do or who I see, she's always sitting in the back of my mind, waiting for the right moment, whether it be a comment or a laugh or a pair of hair loopies that I see in my continuing life, to jump to the forefront of my mind and catch me off guard.

More so than not, I like to spend my spare time alone now. I used to sit with Sokka and Toph for long periods of time after the war, just the three of us in silence, but the time came where I had to move on and continue my duties as Avatar, and they have to go on as well with their own lives. Toph's been working on her Earthbending students during her not-so-spare time, and Sokka's been there to support her every step of the way. Katara would be proud to see how much her brother has grown; it's a big leap to take from being the sexist boy I first met to the expecting father and loving husband I know now. Life is truly amazing, as fleeting and fragile as it is.

I just can't help but wish that she had been given a second chance with it. One of the questions I asked myself time and time again was "how?" How did she perish in battle and I survive? To this very day, the very thought baffles me. The thought of the love she brought in life, and the pain she gave in death, baffles me. Looking back, I'd have to say that I've got to be the luckiest man in the world. I'm on my own now, going from place to place and keeping the peace, and even when I'm by myself I'm never really _alone._

If some people lost a loved one, they would go into hiding from the world, but I know it can't be that way. Not for me. I've got a life ahead of me, and it's a life that Katara made the ultimate sacrifice for. How many times over do I owe her my life? I might have still been trapped in that icy prison if it weren't for that most remarkable woman, a woman whose smile could brighten the days of complete strangers and melt the hearts of even the most emotionless men. And how could all of that, I ask myself, just disappear?

She's not really gone, though. I know Katara's just on the other side, just outside the boundaries of the naked eye and of the grasp, waiting for the time when we can be together again like I always knew we would be. Sometimes, when I sit on the grassy hills of the places we used to visit when we were younger, I can almost hear her voice and feel the touch of her warm skin against mine. A breeze wafts by and she's resting a hand on my shoulder, telling me that it's only a matter of time until we're together again. It's times like these I know that Katara, though gone now, is very much alive within my heart. I feel her there and my sadness is lifted away, if only for a moment.

Nothing could ever break that bond between us, I don't think; not even death. And when that day comes that we meet again, I know that we'll have reached the beginning of our second chapter in the ultimate storybook.

-

_Fin._

_-_

_- _

* * *

_6/29/07 _


	19. Sweat, Blood, and Tears

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this one, because I thought it was about time I wrote some Kataang, seeing as Kataang makes the world go 'round. A tad bit of violence, if you care to handle it.

And yes, I am aware that I used the most over-used title ever. Shut up.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

Sweat, Blood, and Tears

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of the Avatar's face. The battle had been going on for a while now – too long by any stretch of the imagination. From the damp outside, they had moved into the Fire Lord's chamber, which smelled of burned flesh and decay.

"Aang!" A voice sounded to the left. Aang spun around, frantically bashing aside two men with a sweep of his staff, and saw Sokka standing there with his club hanging, limp, in one hand.

"What's wrong?" Aang bellowed over the shouts of the fighting.

"I hear her, Aang."

The absent ring in his voice sent an unpleasant chill down Aang's spine. "Sokka, what are you talking about?" he yelled.

"Princess Yue," clarified Sokka. "She's here to take me home –"

Then, before Aang had time to speak, Sokka dropped to his knees and fell to the ground. Aang gasped in horror; out of his friend's back stood a dripping knife.

"Sokka!" The blood seemed to leave his veins. His voice cracked. He began to fight his way through a group of men to get to the Warrior's side. "Sokka! _Please_, Sokka, talk to me –"

A high-pitched scream, one that he recognized all too well and one that sounded to Aang like the smashing of a lamp on a stone floor, sounded in his ears. Now Aang spun around again and saw an even more horrifying sight. It was Katara; she stood beside a limp figure on the ground that he recognized instantly to be Toph. Katara looked up, hands covering her mouth as if holding back a scream, and her eyes met his from across the room.

"Aang!" He couldn't hear it, but somehow he knew that she had said it.

Aang now began to move towards Katara, yelling, "Hang on, Katara! I'm coming!" The crowd seemed to thicken, though, and he could not pass through the jumble of people.

"Aang, it's Toph!" He heard her frantic voice this time. "It's Toph! She's –"

She stopped, mid-sentence. Her eyes grew wide in a combination of surprise and agony. Aang stopped in his tracks, eyes glued upon the woman he loved as a long sword sprang forth from her abdominal region. The twinkle in her eyes went out like a blown candle and she fell forward with a strange gasping sound, only to reveal a man dressed completely in black with a mask pulled over his head enough to expose the scar on his left eye. He appeared expressionless.

"Katara! NO!"

Aang tried with all his might to dart forward, but he paid for his distraction dearly. A voice as horrible as the cries of his dying friends sounded over his head. The Fire Lord, a shadow over his face, appeared before him with fire dancing on his fingertips. A pair of red eyes erupted from the shadow as he arched his hands and unleashed a plume of deadly flame. Aang, defenseless, cried out in terror –

And sat, bolt upright, in his own bed. That eerie silence that comes only after a terrible nightmare, pierced only by the sound of his own ragged breathing, held the room by its throat. He was soaked with his own sweat now; it dripped down his face, arms, and bare chest. Had he actually yelled? He couldn't tell for sure.

"Aang?" came a groggy voice to his left.

The sheets rustled and a dark silhouette appeared beside him. It was Katara. He could just see her out of the corner of his eye. Her dark hair hung loose over her shoulders and her eyes were not quite open.

"Are you okay, Aang?" she spoke again, rubbing her eyes.

His breath still coming in deep, slow turns, he found that he had not yet recovered enough from the nightmare to speak. Instead, he reached up and wiped his face with the heel of his hand. There were tears on his face, he realized, but he had not felt them fall. A cool hand rested on his sweaty arm.

"Is it that dream again, Aang?" asked Katara quietly.

After a few seconds, Aang managed to speak. "It's always the same one," he breathed. "The battle. Ozai shooting fire. You, Toph, Sokka – all dead, right in front of me, and I can't help you in time."

Katara sighed a long sigh. The sheet in which she was entangled slipped down her shoulder, revealing dark skin that he could barely see in the sliver of moonlight that fell across the bed. Thoughts of the moon and Yue, thoughts coinciding with the dream, flickered across the forefront of his mind again. He shuddered.

"You haven't had that dream in so long, I thought it was finally gone," Katara said.

Aang took a deep breath and wiped his hands on the bed sheets. "I'm sorry that I woke you up for this," he apologized. "I didn't mean to."

At this, Katara laughed quietly and responded, "I don't mind at all. Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "I don't even want to think about it. And besides, it's wrong of me to keep you up like this all the time."

Aang felt Katara scoot over a few inches and rest her hand on the small of his back. "But that's marriage, Aang."

"What, you married me so you could talk me through my nightmares?" he said incredulously, though not in a way that gave the impression of harshness. One of his eyebrows rose in surprise. Though he was still shaking, his breathing seemed to be on the path to normality once again.

"No." A pair of soft arms wound around his torso and Katara leaned her chin on his shoulder. Her breath on his neck sent a tingle – a pleasant one, for a change – down his back. "I married you because I love you, and because I love you I want to help you." When still Aang said nothing, Katara placed a soft kiss on his shoulder. "You're shaking, Aang. Come here."

He was still somewhat absent when she half-guided, half-pulled him down beside her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him close to her, as if sharing body heat. Neither his sweatiness nor his shaking seemed to bother the Waterbender at all; she pulled away from him only long enough to kiss him lightly on the forehead, where the tip of his arrow ended.

"I know that dream is so real to you, and I know how awful it must be to witness the same horror over and over, but remember: the war is six years over. You, me, Toph, and Sokka are all alive and well, and the world is finally at peace. You've done your job as Avatar, and you did it marvelously. Okay, Aang?"

Her words were like his anchor, bringing his mind and aching heart back to earth. He somehow managed to regain the use of his arms long enough to wrap them around his wife and embrace her to the same extent that she held him. He buried his face in her neck, marveling at how they fit perfectly together, how even the beating of their hearts seemed synchronized.

"Thank you, Katara."

Just as the words slipped from his mouth, he felt that wonderful feeling of sleep beginning to take over. Once again, all was right in his world. Being a monk and the Avatar, Aang had never asked for more than the simplest things in life, but as he lay there, breathing in the sweet scent of his wife's hair and dozing off into a dreamless slumber, Aang felt that he had everything in the world that he could ever want.

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/n: I wanted the relationship between Aang and Katara in this oneshot to highlight the supportive-ness (is that a word?) of their relationship instead of just plain old fluff, though I couldn't help but make it the slightest bit sensual, if you catch my drift. I don't know if you picked up that vibe, but I certainly did while I was writing.

I wanted the beginning to seem rushed, as dreams often are. So please don't tell me the beginning felt rushed to you, because I know it was. If you made any observations or you want to comment, please do so!

The lamp allusion in there was for you, libowiekitty!

_Written out longhand at work, while I was supposed to be doing important things. _


	20. Lather, Rinse, Repeat: Got it

A/N: For those of you who don't know, the season three DVD cover has been released, and AANG HAS HAIR. When I saw this art for the first time, I do not deny that I broke down and sobbed with joy. If you haven't seen the cover yet, go to AvatarSpirit dot net and be amazed.

I decided that the best way to vent my excitement was by writing some Kataang. The image of Katara running her fingers through his gorgeous hair was way too much for me to ignore.

Note that the first part was written first, and then I had to stop to go to a party, and when I got back and wrote part two, I was very tired. That may explain and cracked-out-ness you may see. I did my best attempts at fixing it.

EDIT: Thank justicar347 for the new and improved ending!

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Happy Reading!

* * *

Lather, Rinse, Repeat. Got it.

Aang strode into the sitting room of the Fire Nation house that they had lived in for nearly a month now, a towel slung over one shoulder.

"I'm gonna go wash up before we go out," he announced to his three companions, all of whom were lounging around on cheap furniture. Later that night, they planned to go out to market and restock the food stores, which had been running low for quite some time now. His stomach gave a feeble grumble.

At the Avatar's comment, Katara snapped her fingers and sat up. The scroll she had been reading fell from her lap and rolled across the room towards Toph's spot on the floor. Aang started slightly in alarm when Katara jumped to her feet and raced across the room towards her bag. She began to dig through the red bag, talking all the while.

"I saw that we were running low, so I went out the other day and got some more… aha!"

Katara resurfaced, smiling and holding out a bottle. Aang raised his eyebrows, nonplussed.

"What is it?" he asked.

Evidently Katara was surprised at Aang's not knowing, because she glanced over at Sokka, who shrugged and bit into one of his last pieces of jerky. Toph, who sat on the ground in from of his couch, snapped her fingers. Sokka groaned, but nevertheless dug through his almost empty bag and handed one of his sacred pieces of meat to the Earthbender. Katara tore her eyes away from her brother and looked back at Aang.

"It's hair soap," she explained, not quite expressionless. "You've had a full head of hair for two months now, and you haven't washed it with soap?"

Aang shifted, uncomfortable. "…I didn't know I was supposed to."

Over from the floor, Toph laughed and Sokka made a displeased face. Aang blushed, embarrassed.

"_What?_" he said defensively, putting one hand on his head as if shielding his mop of black hair from view. "I never had hair before!"

"No, no, it's okay, Aang," Katara reassured him in a kind tone, walking forward with the bottle in one hand. She handed it to him and smiled. "You can figure out how to use it, right?"

"Uh…" Aang gave her an embarrassed smile. "Could you just tell me?"

Sokka snorted, then coughed as he choked on his jerky. Katara shot him a glare before turning back to Aang and offering him a smile. "Sure, Aang. Here, turn around and look in the mirror."

Aang did as instructed and watched as Katara tugged her topknot from its tie, her hair falling down over her shoulders. His stomach turned over and he tried not to stare at her reflection too much than what would be considered normal.

"Okay, you just sort of… put the soap in your hair," Katara began slowly. She wasn't exactly sure how to go about explaining how to wash her hair. "Then you spread it around and let it foam up, and then rinse it out. Then you do it again." She looked at Aang's reflection. "Simple?"

When Aang just stared back, feeling rather stupid, Katara scratched the side of her head in a considering sense. Then, she smiled and turned to him.

"Here, why don't I take care of it for you and show you how it's done, and then you can try it on your own later?" she asked.

Not sure of what exactly she meant by 'take care of it for you', Aang just shrugged and agreed that it was a good idea.

"Great!" Katara exclaimed, glad that she could be of help. On that note, she grabbed Aang's wrist and pulled him off in the direction of the washroom; he had to grab the towel on his shoulder in order to keep it from falling off from the momentum.

When the pair had disappeared from sight and earshot, Sokka looked down at Toph.

"A piece of jerky says that Twinkletoes slips up and tells her in the next ten minutes," said Toph.

Sokka raised his eyebrows at her, even though she couldn't see it. "Would you be able to tell?"

"I've got a good sense of hearing, Sokka. It's part of being blind."

Sokka seemed to consider this for a moment before shrugging and tossing Toph a piece of jerky from his bag. It hit her in the head, but instead of yelling at him she merely picked it up off the ground and took a bite.

"You're on," he said.

-

Aang felt slightly awkward, sitting on a chair in the washroom with Katara standing behind him. She had dragged a small table into the center of the room and placed one of the shallow basins of water on top of it. Next to the basin sat a pitcher filled with semi-hot water, the bottle of hair soap, and a second towel.

"Put the towel around the back of your neck and lean your head back so the towel's resting on the edge of the tub." Aang complied. "Good. Now just, well, stay put."

"Okay."

Katara began to talk to him, telling him the steps to washing his hair properly. He listened intently, feeling somewhat vulnerable and very awkward; Katara's touch always seemed to have that effect. She picked up the pitcher of warm water and poured some of it just over his hairline, enough to wet the hair that was not already dangling in the basin water. The second her hands came in contact with his scalp, his heart seemed to jump. Her words seemed to come in fragments to him.

"…You don't need much of the soap; just enough to really clean it out. Make sure your hair is wet before you put the soap in, or it won't come out right."

A pause ensued, in which Katara put a dollop of the soap into the palm of her hand, before she rubbed her hands together and brought them to his hair. Aang, not sure of where his eyes should be focused, decided it would be best to close them. He did so with the smallest of sighs.

Katara seemed to almost be enjoying herself. Her hands moved through his hair, fingernails lightly scrubbing and massaging his scalp. Aang fought back a small smile at her touch and tried not to doze off during her tutorial. However, as – what was a word for it? Intriguing? Incredible? Even _sensual_? – as this experience was, the feeling of her fingers running through his hair and her soft voice in his ears was doing more than just cleaning his hair; it was lulling him to sleep.

To keep from further slipping into unconsciousness, Aang opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling.

"…Then, after you rinse…"

More water poured over his head, and Katara placed a hand just above his eyebrows to keep the water from running into his eyes. Aang sighed again. Was this the kind of stuff married couples did? He asked himself this question and tried to ignore the pang in his heart. Being with Katara, being _married_ to Katara, would be more than enough in itself.

She went about doing a second wash ("…because your hair is really dirty, Aang. No offense…"). The feeling of her fingers running time and time again through his hair sent a shiver down his spine, moreso than the warm water that she used to rinse it or –

"And that's it!" Katara announced, sounding somewhat pleased with herself for having successfully explained the art of hair washing. He made to sit up, but she held him down by the shoulder. A trickle of water ran down his neck and he shivered. "Let me help you with that."

Katara grabbed the towel that sat beside the basin and laid it over his face; he laughed quietly, amused. She then pushed the towel down, gently, at his forehead and moved it backwards until she could somehow wrap the towel around his head without getting the towel wet in the water.

"Here, now sit up."

She held the towel to his head and gave him a slight push as he sat up with a grunt. Moments later, Katara appeared in Aang's vision again and got on her knees before him.

"You just dry it a little," she began, towel-drying his hair for a few seconds by moving the towel vigorously back and forth over his head, "and there. Good. I would Waterbend it dry, but it's better to let it dry on its own."

When Katara took the towel away and saw that his damp hair was sticking in every direction, she giggled and ran her fingers through it again. Aang watched her through curious eyes.

"_There_. That's better, isn't it?" she asked, her eyes meeting him for the first time during the procedure. Now, almost playfully, she took both her hands and messed up his hair. Tiny water droplets flew about, landing on his face.

Aang nodded, grinning at her. Although he would later admire the work that Katara had done on his mop of now soft, clean hair, he couldn't help but notice that she seemed more at ease than he had seen her since entering the Fire Nation, and that the beautiful – yet somehow different than he remembered – smile that played on her lips was for him.

-

"Can you hear them?"

"Shut up and maybe I'll be able to, Snoozles!"

"Sorry."

Sokka pressed his hands and ear flat against the wall just as Toph was doing, even though he knew that it would do little for him. After about five minutes of waiting, Toph had commented that she didn't hear anything, so the pair had moved to the wall, where Toph could better hear what was going on.

Toph's brows were furrowed in concentration. "…Katara's talking about hair, but Aang's not saying anything at all."

"Oh really?" Sokka said. "Well if that's true, then –"

Toph's cloudy eyes widened in alarm. "Get back, they're moving towards the door!"

Both Sokka and Toph quickly began to move, but before they could get very far the door opened and Aang walked out of the room with Katara close behind. When Katara saw the pair standing there, looking just a little bit guilty, her head turned slightly to the side in a questioning pose.

"What are you guys doing?"

Sokka smirked. "Oh, we were just looking for that piece of jerky Toph owes me for – _ow!_"

What exactly Sokka had won jerky for, Katara and Aang never found out, because the force of Toph's fist on his arm knocked him clear off his feet. The warrior sat up, grumbling and rubbing his arm.

"You know what?" Katara said, holding up her hands and turning away. "I don't even want to know. Come on, Aang; I need you to light the fire for dinner."

Aang watched Katara's retreating back for a few moments before holding out a hand to Sokka, helping him to his feet, and following Katara out of the room. Sokka and Toph's suspicious behavior was nothing new, but now that he thought about it, he decided that he probably wouldn't want to know, either.

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/N: I just want to hug Aang. I tried to keep his thoughts innocent and naive, but not stupid. I hope I managed to pull that off. 

Also, I would like to take this time to tell the people who are waiting to read more of "Soul Search": I have not forgotten about you! I've just been really busy and everything. Since I'm going away on vacation for a week (leaving tomorrow), I doubt you'll have the chapter. But trust me, when I get back you'll probably have the chapter as well as a bajillion oneshots.


	21. On Middle Ground

A/N: First off, I changed the ending to the previous oneshot, in case you're interested in reading it.

Secondly, thank you all for the wonderful and often helpful reviews you've given me. I never dreamed of breaking 200, and you guys are really and truly some of the coolest people I've met on the internet. Much love!

Now, onto this oneshot. I was supposed to leave today, but certain, ah, circumstances kept me back. So instead, I finished this oneshot that I had begun and gave up on. It's happy and sad at the same time!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

On Middle Ground

In a sloping field of white flowers, where the air was perfect and he felt as if his very soul were floating, Aang opened his eyes and found that he was dead.

Or, at least, he thought as much. Where had he been before opening his eyes? A dark corridor, a chamber where the stench of death filled his nose and sweat plastered his black hair to his forehead. Now here he was, lying face-up in the softest grass that he had ever felt, wearing the whitest of monk's robes and feeling more refreshed than he had ever felt in his entire life.

Aang sat up and took a look around. An endless sea of grass, trees, and flowers stretched out before him like the world on a platter; the feeling of peace associated with his surroundings contrasted so tremendously with the scene that he had just _(unwillingly?)_ left behind that he felt almost dizzy. He felt no sadness, no weighing down in his chest, no pain. His shoulders stood straight and held in a posture that could only mean the world no longer sat on them. When he Airbended to his feet and raised a hand to shield the pleasantly warm sun from his eyes, a voice rang out like a clear bell.

"Aang!"

He spun around and saw Katara standing a few yards away, a white gown draped over her body and a wonderful smile on her face. Her hair was not down as it had been, but tied back in the braid and hair loopies that he once known so well. A bright smile sprang to his face.

"Katara!"

In a flash, she had run up to the Avatar and thrown her arms around his neck. Aang picked her up by the waist and spun her around, both of them laughing as if the war had never happened at all. He set her on her feet and she hugged him, tightly.

"Aang, you did it!" she exclaimed. "It's all over. The war is finally over!"

"It's amazing," he breathed, never taking his gray eyes away from her blue ones. "And look at us, Katara; we're both dead."

At this, Katara laughed and said, "Not quite. This is the middle ground, the place that separates the realms of the living and the dead."

"Yeah, so?"

"So," she continued, gesturing to herself. "I am dead."

Aang raised an eyebrow. "That's what I said before!"

Katara finished her thought: "And you, Aang, are not."

"I – _what?!_"

"Well, just look at yourself!"

Sure enough, when Aang looked down, he saw that he was no longer dressed in white robes, but in the tattered Fire Nation garb he'd been wearing when he thought he'd died.

Aang looked up, mouth ajar, and realized that he was speechless. "But I was… and _you!_" He and Katara stared at one another for a few moments before he finally spoke again. "So, I have to go back?"

Nodding, Katara answered, "You've been given another chance. Take it while you can! There's still so much you can still give to the world, Aang."

Now Aang sighed for the first time, already feeling an acute reluctance and a bout of physical pain. He looked over Katara's shoulder at the beautiful landscape and wished that he could stay. But alas, he knew it was not an option; as the Avatar, he still had a lot of work to do, and the world needed him to do it. His eyes flickered back to Katara, whose small smile seemed to reassure him, and he took a deep breath for strength.

"If I have to leave you, then I have something to tell you," he began slowly. A gentle breeze wafted by and blew his hair about his forehead. He could feel his various battle wounds beginning to reappear on his body. Time was running short now. "Katara, I lo–"

Aang was silenced a moment later, when Katara brought her lips crashing down on his in a forceful, yet somehow still gentle, kiss. His heart leapt to his throat and his eyes widened in surprise; he wanted to react, but he was far too shocked. When she pulled away a few seconds later, Aang saw that her smile had turned to one of bright amusement.

"I know," she said. "When the time comes for you to pass on, I'll be right here, waiting for you."

"You will?" Aang said, both surprised and thrilled.

Just then, a multitude of voices rang out of the air, though none of the corresponding bodies were present. The first voice belonged to Toph, who sounded as if she were holding back a sob from deep within her chest:

"_Come on, Twinkletoes! Open your eyes!"_

The second voice was that of Sokka, and was filled with a combination of despair and the last fragments of encouragement._ "Come on, Aang; we can't lose you, too…"_

A jolt suddenly coursed through Aang's chest. He glanced downward and clapped a hand over his heart in alarm, then turned his eyes to Katara with apprehension and excitement. "You'll wait for me? Are you sure?"

Katara nodded. "I already waited a hundred years for you once. What's a hundred more?"

At this, both Aang and Katara grinned. Quickly, Katara leaned in and kissed him again before straightening his torn collar and turning him around.

"Yes, yes, I'll wait for you!" She laughed, giving him an encouraging push forward. "Now go on, and make sure to tell Toph and Sokka that I love them both."

Aang began walking away from Katara, stopped in his tracks, and glanced back over his shoulder at her.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Katara laughed and further motioned him forward with her hands. "Go! They're waiting for you just on the other side."

Aang took a deep breath, smiled, and took off running down the sloping grass. He didn't know where he was going or why he was running, but he could feel his wounds aching and sweat beading on his forehead. He ran on and on, never tired, mind filled with thoughts of Katara and Sokka and Toph, until he felt himself disappear.

Katara watched Aang fade away from sight and the Middle Grounds, a sad smile on her face and a look of longing in her blue eyes.

"I love you, Aang," she breathed, wiping a single tear from her cheek and savoring the breeze that came by, blowing her dress and hair; it was as if Aang himself were blowing by in one of his beloved winds. "Good luck."

-

Aang gasped, opened his eyes, and found that he was lying on the dirty floor of the Fire Palace. Off to his left, several voices began to speak excitedly.

"He's got a heartbeat, Sokka! He's _alive!_" It was Toph, speaking as if through tears.

The Avatar, who felt rather sick at the moment, could only lie there and wait for his vision to focus properly. Kneeling beside him was Iroh, whose two hands were raised about an inch from Aang's chest. Whether from battle or from rescue attempts, Aang's shirt had been torn open in the front, and he could feel a warm draft on his sweating torso. He groaned between heavy breaths. All around, Aang could hear people rushing around, tending to the wounded and the dead. '_How long had the battle been over for?_' He wondered.

Moments later, Sokka and Toph appeared in his vision and dropped to their knees beside him. Toph appeared to be sobbing and clutching Sokka's arm, while Sokka himself had telltale tearstains on his dirty face.

"We thought you were a goner for sure," he said, voice hoarse. "Iroh did some weird Lightningbending, and then your pulse got stronger." When Aang said nothing, he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Don't be stupid; he was just almost killed, and then electrocuted. Why would he feel all right?" snapped Toph. Clearly she was semi-embarrassed about being in such an emotional state, and was countering it by lashing out.

As Iroh went about, silently checking to make sure Aang's condition was stable, Sokka awkwardly cleared his throat.

"There's something you should know," he began slowly. Aang heard the tremble in his friend's voice and knew what was coming; his throat tightened. "It's Katara. She's…" Sokka's voice cracked, and he stopped. A few tears leaked from his eyes.

Aang felt his chin tremble. Two tears snaked down his face and splashed to the ground into two tiny puddles.

"It's okay, Sokka. I know."

"You…?"

Though he was in too much pain to consciously move, the smallest of smiles turned in the corners of his mouth. He would tell them all about his encounter – well, maybe not _all_ about it – later. But for now, he would say nothing, and he would dwell upon his meeting with Katara with a sort of heartbroken joy. After all, he would die one day.

And when he did, he would finally be with Katara again, somewhere on Middle Ground.

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/N: In case you missed it, Iroh basically used his Lightningbending to defibrillate Aang. Katara was past the point of return. 

Thanks for reading, and again, thank you for the **209** reviews! Peace, love, and the ships of your choice to all!

_- Invaderk_


	22. Modern Times

A/n: I wrote this out longhand on vacation, when the idea popped into my head out of nowhere. I'm posting it here to test it out, and get a general opinion of what you guys think, because I know AU's are tricky with the fandom if they're not done right.

At any rate, if you don't like this, please know that you will probably not see more of it here - if I write more, it'll probably go somewhere else, in a collection somewhere. Note that it's my experiment with the universe, and is mostly character introduction and development.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

Modern Times

The grumpy-looking correctional officer opened one of the heavy doors and lead Sokka through it. He was speaking in a gruff voice, but not a completely unfriendly one. Sokka was only half-listening, anyway. More important matters were at hand.

"… and since this is the third time, if it happens again there will have to be court action. You know the drill by now."

"Yeah, I know."

The door slammed itself shut behind Sokka with a loud metal _clang_ that made him jump slightly, even after the previous occasions upon which he had been lead down this same hallway. The correctional officer strode down the hallway with Sokka in tow until he reached a cell—which, strangely enough, was made of wood—where he stopped.

"How's it going, Lu?" He greeted the man inside the cell as he opened the door.

A huge man named Lu shrugged from where he sat on his prison cot. Next to him, slumped against the wall and looking a combination of bored and annoyed, was a girl of seventeen, whose hair fell down her shoulders in two untidy braids. She was dressed in shades of green, from her beater to her plaid Bermuda shorts, right down to her sneakers, which appeared to have the soles ripped off to expose the bottoms of her dirty feet. In fact, the only thing she wore that wasn't green was a too-large golden belt.

"Alright Toph, you're free to go," announced the officer. As the girl clambered to her feet and passed him on her way out of the cell, he called after her, "I don't want to see you in here again."

Toph didn't respond to the officer, but instead fell into step with Sokka and, together, they left the Ba Sing Se Police Station.

-

In Sokka's car—an old, blue pickup—Toph sat silently in the passenger seat, her arms crossed and her unseeing eyes focused out the window, through which a highway-borne breeze blew inwards and ruffled her bangs. Sokka took a deep breath and rapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He shot Toph a quick, sidelong glance, not wanting to take his eyes off the road for longer than necessary. His shortish hair flew about his face with the breeze.

When the silence became unbearable, he spoke. "Toph, this has to stop. If you get arrested again, they're going to throw you in jail for good."

"I don't care, Sokka," she replied, unmoved by his warning. "Earthbending matters to me more than that." She knocked on her large belt as if that proved a point. "I won't let them keep me from winning tournaments because of it."

"_Illegal_ tournaments."

"I don't care."

Sokka took one hand off the wheel to reach into his pocket for his cigarettes and a lighter. He fumbled with the box, stuck a white stick between his teeth, and lit the tip with a slight cough.

"Yeah, well I can't afford to bail you out anymore, and Aang still needs you as his Earthbending sifu. You won't do him a whole lot of good in a thick, wooden cell," Sokka intoned. Though he spoke in an almost condescending way, he knew that Toph only took him half-seriously anyway. Toph held out one hand, and he passed her the box of cigarettes and his lighter. The clicking of the lighter followed. "So don't do it again."

Toph sighed and blew her smoke out towards the window. "Alright. Sorry." She paused, then added hotly, "I didn't contact you as my one phone call and 'next of kin' so I could get a lecture, you know."

The car fell into another one of those ringing silences, during which Sokka stared forward at the road, hands near the top of the wheel and his cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. His watch turned to one o'clock and beeped loudly, making Toph's hand clench. He didn't like it when Toph was angry—especially not with him—and he felt that he really couldn't blame her for fighting in those Earth Rumble tournaments; they earned her a good amount of money, after all, all of which she put into the 'family account' ('family' meaning he, she, Katara, and Aang) instead of spending on herself.

At this thought, he felt his heart go out to her and glanced sidelong in her direction once again.

He tossed the butt of his cigarette out the window and said to Toph in an almost toneless voice, "I didn't tell Katara."

Toph sat in silence for a few seconds. Then: "Thanks."

-

Sokka parked his old pickup and together he and Toph walked down the steps of a run-down apartment building until they reached the basement level. Once there, Sokka reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of stuff. There were some old gum wrappers, his lighter, a broken chip, and a ring of keys amid a handful of pocket lint. He took the ring of keys and found a certain one, while stuffing the rest of the stuff back in his pocket.

His back turned to Toph as he slipped the key in the slot, he said, "I told Katara that you'd gone shopping like you'd said when you left, but your bike tire popped on the way home."

Toph nodded. A logical explanation. But wait…

"What about all the other stuff I supposedly bought while shopping?"

A smirk rose to Sokka's face. "I group of punk kids drove by and took your stuff while you were trying to fix the bike," he answered, holding back a laugh.

Feeling the convulsion of his laughter through the ground, Toph rolled her eyes. "Gosh Sokka, you make me sound so helpless!" she exclaimed, clearly unhappy with this cover-up story. "Where's my bike, anyway? I left it at the stadium when I got arrested."

Sokka pushed open the door and jerked his head in the direction of the car, forgetting that she could not see it. "They had it at the station. I threw it in my truck, but I also had to pop your tire so our story makes sense. Sorry."

His grin was so large that she didn't need sight in order to be able to sense it. She punched him in the shoulder.

"Jerk."

Now laughing freely at her expense and trying not to rub his arm where she had punched it, Sokka lead the way down a dark hallway until he reached another door. He knocked five times in quick succession and stepped to the side. A few seconds later the door opened and Katara stuck her head through it. Her Water Tribe University shirt was just visible in the crack in the door; before Aang had come into their lives about a year ago, Katara had been attending the Nursing program for Waterbenders.

"Hey, come in."

Katara opened the door enough to allow the pair to enter the large, one and a half room (save for a bathroom with a washer and dryer) apartment. The place was overall generally tidy, with the exception of a mess of clothes and gadgets strewn about. Three beds and a mat on the floor stood near each other, with a series of tall metal cabinets lining the far left wall. A small kitchen branched off the one room, and a desk with chair sat at the back wall.

When Katara caught sight of Toph, she began to fuss over her.

"I'm so sorry about your stuff and everything, Toph. Are you sure you're all right? Sokka said that you were crying on the phone when he spoke to you…"

Toph's lips pursed at this comment. Sokka, determined not to laugh at Toph's expression, which promised a sound punch later, walked over to one of the tall metal cabinets. He unlocked it, and when he opened it the light fell across a vast array of weapons. Sokka was a mechanic and a weapons specialist—especially with Water Tribe weapons—and was able to fight expertly with everything from guns to the custom-made boomerang he'd inherited back in the Southern Water Tribe about a year before Aang had stumbled into the city on the brink of death.

Sokka selected said boomerang and a sharpening tool, and yelled, "Hey, Aang!"

The sound of his name registering in his ears, the Avatar turned off the speakers, spun around in his computer chair, and pulled his headphones off. "Oh hi Sokka and Toph. Everything go alright?"

Instead of replying, Toph walked across the room and sat on her floor mat. Aang raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner, but Sokka cut across him before he could ask.

"So Aang, what have you accomplished since I left?"

"Um, well, I got the password to the Fire Nation's military database," Aang offered.

Sokka turned, closing the cabinet door behind him. One of his eyebrows rose in suspicion. "That's a five-minute job for mister 'I can hack faster than I can Airbend a tornado'." He accompanied the statement by twirling his index fingers in the air like little tornados.

Next, Sokka turned on his little sister. "Let me guess: you haven't gotten anything done, either?"

Katara's cheeks tinged as red as the Air Nomad symbol on Aang's black sweatshirt. She pushed back her hair loopies with a sort of dignified embarrassment.

"Sokka, we didn't do anything. We were just—"

"Aang, your fly is down," Toph interjected.

Aang started in alarm and looked down, then realized that Toph had caught him off guard and stammered an excuse that nobody listened to. Katara buried her face in her hands in exasperation with the naïve Avatar and her friends. Sokka shot Katara a look that screamed 'point proven'. He shook his head at Aang, as if disappointed.

"And you call yourself a monk," he said slowly. "Pitiful."

Sokka leaned his back against the metal cabinet and massaged hiss temples with his free hand. He didn't like the idea of Katara being with anybody, but reality was reality. Besides, as much as he didn't _like_ the idea, he had to admit, if only to himself, that Aang was by far the best pick for Katara. Still, he wouldn't let that keep him from messing with the Avatar's brain a bit. Now just wasn't the time, though.

"We don't have time to be screwing around—not any of us!" he exclaimed. His blue eyes moved around the room from Aang to Katara to Toph. "Aang still has no Firebending teacher, and we only just found out where to find the military's account. It's time to get serious, guys."

Even Katara bit back a retort, and the room was engulfed in an awkward silence. Sokka was right, of course, and they all felt a tad guilty about messing around when a war needed to be fought; Toph bowed her head. Katara sighed. Aang, face still a shade of pink that contrasted with his arrows, turned back to the computer.

"Okay, so I got into the database, and there's a list of the top military officials that I'm going to have to end up fighting eventually, as well as a list of weaponry, maps, and other things." His fingers flew across the keyboard at lightning speed. Sokka and Katara made their way over to the desk, both eager for a change of subject. "I just need to get the right password key aaand… there!"

Grinning, Aang dramatically pressed a key and several windows popped up, each with a picture or a stern-looking person and biography.

"A complete list of important figures and their backgrounds," Aang said.

"Excellent work, Aang," Sokka congratulated him with a thump on the back. Aang winced.

Toph flopped backwards on the ground and laced her fingers behind her head. "Who's in charge?"

"Looking," replied Aang. He scrolled down the page until Katara pointed at the screen.

"There, Aang. The military insignia! It must be the head General!"

"Who, the one with the sideburns?"

"No, the girl. There."

Next to an embossed symbol of the Fire Nation's military was a picture of a stern-looking young woman whose hair sat in a tight topknot atop her head. Her eyes seemed to bore through the flat screen and into Aang's, challenging him and mocking his training as the Avatar. Aang shuddered violently then, and not even Katara's hand on his shoulder took away the sudden feeling of doubt. Toph sat up now, brows furrowed.

"What is it? Why are you all so quiet?"

Sokka leaned forward across the desk to read the small font.

"It says here that she's a Firebending prodigy, a Lightningbender, and a deadly tactical expert." He brought a dark chill crashing down on the room as his next words left his lips: "The Fire Lord's daughter: General Azula."

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/n: I was going to include a description of what they're wearing, but that would seem sort of stupid in the story, so I'll just describe it here. Skip it if you're not interested: 

Sokka - Blue beater, baggy khaki pants, blue sneakers. His hair is what it looks like when it's down. Leather belt, same old necklace.

Toph - Already described her, but I'll do it again: Green beater, green plaid Bermuda shorts (I bought myself a pair after writing this. xD), green sneakers with the bottoms cut off so she can Earthbend. Hair in two braids, and has bangs.

Katara - I had a bit of trouble with her outfit, but decided that she's wearing light blue sweatpants rolled up to the knee, and her Water Tribe University Nursing Program t-shirt, which is white. She's got on a pair of white sneakers. Hair and necklace the same.

Aang - Bald, still has arrows, but wears a black sweatshirt with a red Air Nomad symbol on it - he bought it in a gift shop in Ba Sing Se that sold all different types of nation clothing. He's wearing loose jeans (though not saggy gangsta jeans), tied off with a black belt, like Sokka's, only not leather. The jeans are zip-off after the knee, and he's wearing red Puma sneakers to match his Air Nomad symbol.

Holy crap, that was a lot of information. Thanks for reading, and remember: smoking is bad for you!


	23. 100Word Oneshots

A/N: Why yes, I am doing this just to get an update out. I'm hoping that it will help my writer's block. Anyway, I took requests for 100-word oneshots a long while ago ("Summer Siblinghood"was one of them), and decided that they would be best off posted in one group. Each one has its own author's note from when I originally wrote it. Oh yes, and I realize that some of them are rather forced; that's why I don't take requests!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

_For QTpie_

_Author's Notes: I love ickle Sokka and Katara. :3_

_Title: Snowflakes_

"Sokka!" Katara popped her head out of the tent and looked around for her brother. "Mommy says go inside!"

There he stood, in the center of 'town', head thrown back and mouth open. Confused, the four-year-old girl ran out and stopped beside her brother.

"Sokka," she repeated, grabbing his sleeve and giving it a tug. "What're you doing?"

He batted her hand away and answered, "I'm catshing thnowfakes on mah thung."

Giggling, Katara threw her head back and stuck her tongue out. Tiny pinpricks of cold began to dance in her mouth. She giggled in delight.

"Wow, thith _is_ fun!"

-

_For: Xander129_

_Author's Notes: This would have been much better in a longer format, but here's the 100-word version for you. I don't know how suspenseful it is, but I tried to make an air of hurriedness._

_Title: Closet Space_

First, they'd been sneaking. Then, they'd been sighted. Now, as Katara wrenched open the nearest door and shoved Aang inside, she wondered if they would make it out of this Fire Nation Palace alive. She slammed the door, casting the room into absolute darkness.

It was only when she felt Aang's breath, harsh from running, in her ear that she realized how small the room was.

"A little tight," he observed in an oddly choked voice.

Katara shifted, trying to get some more space between them, but to no avail. "Sorry," she breathed, glad the darkness could hide her blush.

-

_For Isabel_

_Author's Notes: I like Toph and Sokka's performance in this one. You requested a confession, so here you go!_

_Title: Confession_

This was turning out to be a whole lot harder than she thought it would be. Between the shade of scarlet her face had turned and the snickers coming from Toph and Sokka – because they knew; Toph always knew when it came to heart rates – Katara wanted nothing more than to run. But she couldn't run now. Aang was looking at her with the utmost curiosity, and her feelings were too deep to ignore. So, ignoring her brother and Toph to the best of her ability, Katara swallowed her pride and murmured four words:

"I love you, Aang."

-

_For Pheonee_

_Author's Notes: I don't know how I feel about this one… for some reason I don't like it all that much, but hey. If you don't like it, send it back and I'll figure out a way to fix it. xD_

_Title: Dinner with the Lord_

Katara asked the Fire Lord, smiling, "You're sure you've got the Fire Nation in order? Aang and I have got to go soon."

"Yes," Zuko answered, rolling his eyes. "If only you could say the same for your Waterbenders."

"What's wrong with Waterbenders?" She sounded offended, but the grin on her face said otherwise. In a swift motion, she Bended the water from her goblet and readied a whip.

Zuko raised an eyebrow. "Nothing," he answered. "They're just uncontrollable."

"You think so?" On that note, Katara leapt up and, laughing, proceeded to show Zuko just how uncontrollable Waterbenders could be.

-

_For JetHeartsZuko_

_Author's Notes: I've never written Maizu before never mind Maizu angst), so I wanted to get it right. Well, I wrote a drabble with dialog in it, but then I thought that maybe you didn't want dialog in the drabble. So I wrote a second one without dialog. So now you have two. xD_

_Title: Maiko in a Cell_

First one:

"She sent you, didn't she, Mai? To punish me."

Expression hard, Mai only stared back at Zuko in reply. The scarred Prince made to move forward, but the shackles on his wrists and ankles held him fast.

"Mai, answer me!"

She blinked. "Yes."

"To hurt me?"

A pause followed. The woman's eyes looked down at the dusty floor. "Yes," she whispered, closing her eyes. "Zuko, you have to understand. It's not my choice anymore. I –"

"Just do it."

A shuddery sigh escaped her. Hands shaking, Mai pulled back her sleeve and took one of her knives from its holster.

-

Second one:

She could hardly look at him. Here was Zuko, the man she had shared jokes with as a child, now a prisoner on his own sister's ship. Mai's clasped hands shook beneath her long sleeves, her finger running over the knife's blade on its wrist holster. She had been sent by Azula to punish the traitor.

And he knew. From the moment she stepped into the filthy cell and glanced at Zuko, she felt his knowing eyes on her, searching for a hint as to what was in store. Mai knew, and now it was time for Zuko to know.

-

_For Arcanger_

_Author's Notes: I actually like this one a lot. What can I say? I'm a sucker for aangst._

_Title: Sweat, Blood, and Tears_

The stale stench of sweat and blood in the Fire Lord's chamber filled his nose, made him choke. Bodies littered the floor in every direction, but Aang still fought on. His companions had long since disappeared in the crowd, fighting as boldly as the Avatar himself.

With a piercing yell, Aang blocked a wave of fire with one arm and dashed forward, Earthbending the Fire Lord's feet to the ground with a stomp.

"It's over," snarled Aang, holding Ozai's chest at staffpoint.

Ozai grinned devilishly. "For your friends, it is."

Aang turned and saw; tears mixed with sweat and blood.

-

_For kaTaaNGeR_

_Author's Notes: Okay, I had a little bit of a hard time figuring out the specifics of your request, but here's what I gathered from it: You wanted a quiet conversation between Katara and Aang about the Cave of Two Lovers, followed by a kiss without a confession._

_Title: Speechless_

"Do you remember… the cave?"

The question, which had been asked in a quiet undertone, didn't ring like Katara thought it would have. Aang looked around the quiet, grassy clearing of the forest where he and Katara sat together. Surprisingly, neither of them blushed.

"Yeah," he answered, also quiet. Then he cast his eyes down. "I'm sorry about what I said in there. I didn't mean it."

Instead of replying, Katara reached out and gently touched the side of his face. Aang looked up, alarmed.

"Wha–?" He was cut off when Katara leaned forward and kissed him.

"Aang," she breathed.

-

_For Skylord_

_Author's Notes: Being the first of the bunch, I wasn't exactly sure what to make of this. It took me only five minutes to realize that this isn't as easy as I thought it would be, mostly because it's hard to fit a scenario into 100 words. xD_

_Title: Time_

The salty breeze on my face was more of a comfort than I thought it ever could be. Dolphin-whales leapt through the tropical water below us as we headed towards the island in the distance. The island would be deserted, free from pain and war, but still I was uneasy. Tearing my eyes from the looming mass of land, I set them on Katara and sighed inwardly.

"Katara?" I began.

Katara, as well as Toph and Sokka, turned their heads in my direction. I took a deep breath and set my eyes on the woman before me. It was time.

-

_For Mik2x_

_Author's Notes: This was easier to do than the others, and a whole lot of fun. I don't know if this is the scenario you wanted, but I used your general description as creative license. If you want me to change it or rewrite it, just ask._

_Title: Words_

Aang wasn't sure where he was – swimming somewhere in the shady realm between consciousness and unconsciousness, more likely than not – but he could sense that she was there, next to him. Healing him after the gruesome battle.

"Katara," he gasped. Tears escaped from his eyes and slid down his face. A gentle hand wiped them away.

"What is it?" replied Katara.

"I…" His voice faded off, and he took a deep breath. "I love you. So much."

Silence.

"Aang –"

"It's okay if you don't," he breathed.

Katara leaned down and gently kissed him. "Oh, but I do."

-

* * *

A/N: So yup, that's about it. I liked some more than others, obviously, and a handful of them are just downright bad. But that's okay! Thanks for reading!


	24. Obvious Notations

A/N: IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN "THE HEADBAND", DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER.

Anyway, now that I've gotten that point across, I have one thing to say (well, actually, I have a lot of things to say, but this is one of them): Fire Nation kids are made of win and awesome. Especially the one called Shoji, who was the tan one that looked remarkably like Aang. So, instead of writing this little drabbles from Aang or Katara's perspectives, I wrote it from his. Enjoy the drabble!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

Obvious Notations

Shoji had known right away that something was different about the foreigner, and it wasn't just that he was foreign, liked to dance, or could avoid Hide without so much as a scratch. Or, yeah, he was sure that played a part in it, but it wasn't _just_ that he was an eccentric foreign kid from the Earth Kingdom Fire Colonies. It wasn't that he was bold enough to stand up to Hide or to dance like nobody was watching, and it wasn't that headband he wore—though Shoji had a bit of a hard time believing that it was just a scar under there.

No, what had really gotten to him was the way that Kuzon and his mother interacted. Well, it wasn't _really_ his mother; that much he had realized once he'd seen her without the pregnancy costume (as for the bearded man and the other girl, he didn't really know what to think of them). Anyway, the foreigner's—Kuzon, he would call him, but only because it was his theoretical alias—mother who was therefore his friend, had amazed him just as much as Kuzon himself had on the second day of school.

While the others, Shoji included, began to dance, the girl stayed behind. He watched her with interest as she followed Kuzon with her eyes. She took in everything in a series of quick glances, looking away whenever she thought that Kuzon might be looking back at her, which happened to be quite frequently. Shoji remembered that his feet stopped moving once Kuzon approached the girl, holding out his hand. He saw rather than heard her spluttered protests, Kuzon's words of reassurance, and finally her (reluctant?) acceptance. It was like watching a play, only that the acting conveyed far more tension than any actors could have ever achieved. And when they began to dance, one thing became clear to the curious observer:

Whether they knew it or not, it could not be more apparent that Kuzon and his friend were in love. He didn't know if it was the sensuous passion in their movements or if it was the way the bearded man was watching—curious, fascinated, and just a tad reproachful—but it was true enough. They moved together as one, arms and legs intertwining, moving, seeming to breathe together. The smile on her face, tinged with a delicate shade, told him that she knew it too.

He looked at his companion, who had only just left behind his inhibitions a moment ago, and saw that he could see it too. Perhaps not the way that Shoji saw it, but he saw it too. He continued to watch, mesmerized, as the pair danced. Kuzon didn't seem to see the blushing girls all around him; only the woman with whom he moved. Only her. By the look on his face, it had only ever been her, and would only ever be her.

When they finally reached their finale and Kuzon dipped her backwards in his arms, the room exploded with thunderous applause. Shoji, too, yelled and cheered along with the rest of them. The pair, chests heaving and sweat dripping down their faces, still did not look at any one but each other. They could hear the sounds of enthusiastic applause, probably, but it appeared to him that, if just for a moment, they only thing they could hear was the wild beating of their hearts.

Oh yes, he deduced, not understanding how his completely unromantic 12-year-old mind could process this revelation, Kuzon and his friend were more certainly in love. No questions.

The night progressed. When Hide and the adults came to crash the party that had changed them all, he did his best to help Kuzon and his friends escape from the fate that was the coal mines. Then came the real surprise. Upon watching his new friend's retreating back disappear from sight, he was struck with a shock that he was almost certain was an illusion. But alas, when he blinked, the new wall of the cave had not changed.

Yes, something was strange about this foreign boy and his friends. Shoji pushed back the crazy thought that had just popped into his mind and turned back to the commotion ahead. If the notion was correct—which it couldn't possibly be, could it?—then at least Kuzon had gotten the chance to let loose for one night. After all, Shoji mused, how often did they have dance parties in the Fire Nation?

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/N: Anyway, yeah. The Kataango brought tears to my eyes, my friends. It was epic. I wrote a much shorter oneshot also, but I need to type it up and stuff before I can post it, so look out for it soon! 

Thanks for reading!


	25. Disguises Make for Awkward Moments

A/N: This is me being silly and shippy at the same time. Beware!

And by "beware", I mean "Beware silliness, shippiness, and potentially not great writing. This was done for the laughs!"

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

_Awkward Disguises Make for Awkward Moments  
_

Head bent low in concentration, Katara put the finishing touches on her costume and turned around, striking a pose and flashing a smile as she did so.

"Tada! One pregnant mother, at your service," she chimed.

Upon seeing her, Sokka gave a loud cough of surprise at the believability of the costume and stepped forward. He circled her slowly, taking in her disguise as a whole, one hand stroking his false beard in a contemplative manner.

"Impressive, very impressive," he noted. Sokka reached out and gave Katara's bulging false abdomen a sharp prod, then nodded his approval when the stuffing quickly returned to its normal state.

"What's the verdict then, Snoozles?" asked Toph from where she stood with her arms crossed and her back against the wall.

Sokka grinned and in reply, turned to his sister and joked, "So, who's the lucky man?" He accompanied the comment with a nudge of his elbow. "Huh? Huh?"

Toph laughed. "_You_, apparently."

At this, both Sokka and Katara winced. Sokka's grin faded and his mouth twitched beneath his beard.

"That's awkward," he muttered under his breath, clearly disturbed, before walking away, most likely to clear his mind and get a breath of fresh air.

Chuckling under her breath, Toph approached next and poked Katara in the stomach much like Sokka had. After her came a hesitant Aang, whose expression was one of mild discomfort. Katara's eyes lingered on his face for a moment before turning to Toph's.

"Is it a girl or a boy?" Toph joked.

Katara laughed, the unfamiliar hairstyle on her head bouncing as she did so, and replied, "I think it might be a boy."

Now Aang moved forward—Toph moved pointedly out of the way to allow him entry and announced that she was going to find Sokka outside—and placed one arrowed hand on the stuffed mass that was Katara's "pregnancy".

"Oh, I don't know, Katara," Aang said, smiling. He dropped to his knees and placed his ear against her abdomen. "I think it might be a girl. Oh, and wait!" His other hand reached up and rested next to his face, as if he were really listening and feeling for a baby. "My Avatar Senses are telling me that she's going to be a Waterbender, too!"

Aang rolled back up on his feet and stood, brushing the dirt from his knees and grinning at Katara in a way that she hadn't remembered seeing in quite some time. She felt herself grinning back similarly, and before she knew it she'd said the first thing that popped into her head:

"What a good father you are, Aang."

Then, as her words sunk into the both of them and she realized the implication of what she had just said, Katara felt her face flush in embarrassment. Aang's smile flickered, moreso in surprise than in horror at the idea, and he forced himself to blink a few times as he processed the meaning of her words.

Desperate for an escape—if they kept staring at one another like this for much longer, she'd surely die on the spot—Katara coughed slightly and tugged on one of her hair ties.

"I think I'll go tell Sokka it's time to go," she announced.

Katara turned and hurried out of the cave on that note, leaving an astounded Aang in her wake. He stared at her retreating back with a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks, his brain still in a tizzy, until she disappeared. When the hem of her attire whipped around the corner after her, Aang shook his head vigorously and smirked to himself.

"Yeah, I'll bet I am."

-

_Fin._

* * *

You can't tell me that Aang didn't think of anything in particular when he saw Katara's disguise for the first time. I can think of a number of things that may have crossed his mind... that little devil. 

Sorry, sorry! Thanks for reading, and feel free to point out any errors!


	26. Goodbye, and Goodnight

A/n: So I've been in a bit of a writing slump lately (hence the lack of updates). I've also been trying to avoid the internet due to the spoilers that are floating around, but hey.

I've been working on a chapter in my AU amongst other... surprises... but this sort of popped into my head last night and I had to write it. So here we are!

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Happy Reading!

* * *

_Goodbye, and Goodnight_

The door opens a crack and a sliver of light falls across the floor, a light that is momentarily blocked as a man slips into the room. His pose is a light one, unfitting for broad shoulders and arms that have thrust many a boomerang. Still, even with a physical appearance that might portray a gruff, even cold man, his eyes are crystal blue and warmer than fire.

Not that this matters as he makes his way across the room towards a mass on the floor. Many a thought is running through his mind, recent conversations and promises and lies, all leading up to one thought: a second war, one greater than the first, a war fought underground rather than in the streets of the cities. The idea frightens and saddens the man, who knows his place in the world, knows and accepts that which cannot be denied. He is, and has always been, a man of science and reason.

The mass of blankets on the floor rustles and a hand pokes out from beneath it, finding a spot on the ground and lying palm-down. A grunt ensues, and the hand heaves up the frame of a girl.

"Daddy?" Her voice is young and meek, one that usually holds a tough edge but now seems quite shaken.

The man makes his way through the darkness and finds a place on the ground to sit, beside his daughter's mat. The sliver of light from the door falls on her face as she sits up. Black hair cascades down her shoulders in a waterfall of tangled silk. For a moment, the man finds himself wishing to reach out and touch her hair, but he does not. The heaviness in his heart climbs to his arms and seems to fill them with lead.

Instead, the man seeks the right words with a quick mental prayer to the moon spirit. "I'm sorry for waking you up, Nikka," he apologizes in a calm tone, the deepness in his voice reverberating through his chest.

"It's okay." The girl straightens up and crosses her legs beneath her blankets. "I wasn't sleeping anyway."

The man has a hunch as to why. The words are hard for him to express, as he has suppressed them with all his might up until this point, but he needn't try to speak; the young girl has caught enough fragments of hushed conversation to know what is happening, and knows exactly what she wants to ask.

"Why was Mommy crying?" asks the girl.

No ironic smirk crosses the warrior's face. Oh, how his wife hates to cry! he thinks. It is only natural for her to wonder.

His hands fiddle in his lap as he thinks up a proper response. "Well, Nikka, Uncle Aang and I have been talking about the recent… stuff that's been happening in the world."

"You mean like those dead people in the newspaper?" she pipes up, grimly interested.

In the shadow, he grimaces at the thought and nods. "Yes, like that. Me and your uncle decided that we have to go to the Fire Nation for a while and… sort things out. I have to leave tomorrow morning, before you wake up; that's why I'm telling you now."

"Can I come with you?"

He is startled by her request, and although in his heart he considers the idea for a moment, his brain knows that it cannot—_should_ not—be so. Just because he had to give up his childhood to war does not mean that his only child must give up hers.

But the daughter does not miss a beat. She is wise, even for a girl of nine. "Is Mommy going, too?"

The man, somewhere in the back of his memory, hears his wife's stifled sobs as their argument comes to an end. For the first time, he falters. "Nikka—no, she's not. Mommy's going to stay home with you while I—while I'm gone. We decided earlier today."

The girl's chin drops and her face turns downward in sadness at the news of his forthcoming departure. He cannot stand her frown, and his heavy hands act of their own accord as they cup either side of her face and raise her eyes to meet his.

"Nikka," he says. His wife had not liked the name, had not thought it strong nor bold enough for the daughter of the greatest Earthbender in the world, but he had insisted on it. It sounds to him like a cheerful song in the worst of times, a bright light in a dark place. "I need you to stay strong, stay brave. Keep an eye on Mommy and Katara for me, and be nice to your cousins. That's all I need, okay?"

The girl nods, but there is no promise in her face that she will be able to stay strong. Now fighting the bought of tears behind his eyes, he leans down and engulfs her in a leopard-bear hug.

"_Spirits,_ I love you so much, Nikka," he breathes. His lips are tugging downward in a frown, his eyes shut against the pending wetness behind his eyes. He pulls away from his daughter and kisses her forehead before he sits up again.

The girl frowns a frown to match her father's. Then she asks, "When will you be home?"

And therein lies the problem, thinks the man. But what can a man tell his daughter about war? About the crimes he will commit and the lives he will inevitably end, all in the name of peace? He cannot—and probably would not, anyway—inform his daughter that a large chance exists that he will not return home at all, but it is his duty as a citizen of the world and as a personal friend of the Avatar to jump into this brawl with eyes open and sword held high.

The man can only look her in the eyes, swallow the lump in his throat, and tell her "Soon," and for once he is glad that she cannot look back.

-

_Fin. _

* * *

A/n: Yep, so poor Nikka is blind, just like her mother! She's also an Earthbender, though, so she manages pretty well (especially with Toph as a teacher). This story was inspired by the touching relationship between a girl and her father in a book I recently read. Their relationship was so beautiful that I cried reading it, like the dork I am. At any rate, I've been looking for a circumstance in which I can show how Sokka interacts with Nikka, and this was the perfect opportunity. 

Thanks so much to Blue Flame over on KataangForever(dot)net, for beta-ing, and thank you all for reading!

Oh yeah, and one last note: **PLEASE do NOT** post any sort of spoilers about the episodes released in the UK. I plan on waiting until they're released in the US before I watch them. If you post spoilers, I will... so something unpleasant. Because spoilers are evil. If you want to talk about anything up to "The Runaway" though, be my guest!


	27. Holiday Celebration

A/n: First off, HAPPY HOLIDAYS! I hope you've been enjoying whatever it is you celebrate, and that life's been swell. I know I've got about a thousand things I've been trying to write, but the holidays forced my to abandon everything and write this rather useless oneshot. I told myself that I would get it up before Christmas was over, and while I'm cutting it sort of close, I'm still succeeding nonetheless. Hopefully the grammar isn't that bad; it _is_ late, you know, and I'm quite tired.

I apologize in advance for the utter lack of anything in this oneshot!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

_Winter Solstice—Holiday Celebration_

Katara stepped back from her handiwork and brushed away the hair from her forehead with the back of her hand. A few hours of preparation sat in front of her, now boiling merrily away in a pot. Perhaps for a few precious minutes, while everyone else seemed to be elsewhere, she would remove her apron and take a seat. The Waterbender smiled faintly at the idea of a short break, but no sooner had she reached out a hand toward her chair that a high-pitched scream erupted from the room over, and five children came scrambling into the room.

At least, Katara saw them all as children, and in the most affectionate way. The oldest of the actual children was a girl of no more than six, followed closely by a girl of five and a boy of three. Last in tow, and the seeming root of chaos at the moment, was the biggest child of all: a grown man in monk attire with a boy of fourteen months seated upon his shoulders.

Katara heaved a heavy, tired sigh and picked up her spoon again. She would get no rest for now, but that was okay. After everything they had been through, a little horseplay was nothing at all.

As the rest of the children carried on with their chase, Aang straightened up and turned to face his wife at the fire.

"Well doesn't _this_ look delicious!" he exclaimed. His fingers reached out as if to take the spoon from his wife's hand to try whatever was in the pot, but Katara smacked his hand with the ladle and he drew back.

"I swear, if you so much as reach within a foot of this pot, I'll take your fingers off," she snapped, but there was no real threat behind her voice. "I've been working on this all day."

Aang chuckled, swinging the boy off of his shoulders and tucking him beneath his arm like a ball; the child gave a shriek of delight and made to grab at the swinging tassels of the monk's robe. "I wasn't talking about the food, Katara," Aang teased.

Katara rolled her eyes, nevertheless smiling. "Oh ha ha. Very funny, you. I suppose you've been waiting to use that line all day, right?"

"Wow, you're good, Katara."

The pair laughed and shared a quick kiss before they were interrupted by the squirming child in the Avatar's arms. Aang spared Katara a lingering grin—and oh, she had seen that lopsided grin so many times, and it never got old—before swinging the boy back on his shoulders and taking off after the other children.

-

The front door opened and a broad-shouldered figure backed into the door, one arm laden with a barefoot child and the other carrying a number of oddly-shaped packages. Across his back was slung an array of unnecessary weapons ranging from boomerang to sword, and in his eye was a mischievous glint that Katara knew meant the journey across the way had gone well enough.

The man had barely set the poorly-wrapped packages down on a nearby table when a series of screams rang through the air as a sort of announcement of the newcomers' presences, and into the room dashed the aforementioned group of children and their father.

"Uncle Sokka!" the oldest girl cried, flinging herself at the man and grabbing him around the knees.

Sokka, laughing, reached down and mussed the girl's hair, at the same time trying to greet Aang. The Avatar approached, shared a brotherly hug with Sokka, and kissed the side of the little barefoot girl's head.

"How are you, Sokka?" Aang asked.

Sokka set the girl on the ground and gave her a nudge in the direction towards the other children; one of the others quickly approached, hugged her, and grabbed her arm before dragging her off to join their game.

"Not bad," Sokka answered. "What about you, mister Avatar? How's Katara coming along?"

Aang cocked one eyebrow and shrugged in a casual way. "The doctor said she's coming along nicely—we're about a month from delivery, he thinks. But we're not really all that worried; we have lots of practice."

"That you do. Now where is Toph?" Sokka spun around and peered outside through narrowed eyes for a moment before spotting the woman in question. "Oh, there you are! Did you get lost on the way inside or something?"

A strong woman of medium height entered the doorway, her arms also weighed down with several knapsacks of stuff. "Thanks for all your help with carrying the stuff, Sokka," she quipped.

The warrior's hands shot up in his own defense, even though Toph couldn't see them. "Hey, I had stuff! And I was carrying Nikka—doesn't that count?"

"What, are her feet broken so she can't carry herself? Because if they are, we've got a bigger problem on our hands than who carried what presents."

Aang shook his head at his friends and, smirking at their banter, freed one of Toph's hands and gave her a one-armed hug. The Blind Bandit responded to this with a friendly "Hey there, Twinkletoes" and a punch in the arm. Aang tried not to wince at her strength.

The next ten minutes or so consisted of everyone greeting the new arrivals with hugs and kisses and, in the case between Katara and Sokka, an argument about who was supposed to prepare the stewed sea prunes for their get-together. Nikka, who had a bit of a hard time "seeing" on the type of floor in Katara and Aang's house, settled in with her cousins and attempted to join in on their game ("We're playing pirates!" Mye had announced excitedly).

Meanwhile, Sokka pulled on his sister's apron, adjusted the ties around the middle to fit him a little better, and snatched the spoon out of her hand. The Waterbender's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Imagine what your pre-Avatar self would have said!" she joked. "Sokka doing a _woman's_ job?"

The Warrior only grinned in response.

Katara, eyes narrowed, gave her brother a playful jab in the ribs before heading over towards the table, at which Toph sat with a glass of whatever Aang had poured for her. She sat down, closed her eyes, and arched her back with a tiny sigh of contentedness. Beside her, the Blind Bandit set down her glass and nudged her head towards Aang.

"You all sound healthy," Toph observed.

Katara smiled at her friend. "Well, you know. How healthy can we all be with so many of us around? But yeah, all things considered." Toph made no comment. "Sokka's in an awfully good mood today. He's even _cooking_ for me."

Toph gave a noncommittal shrug. "He does a lot of cooking nowadays. When I try, for some reason whatever I'm making burns."

Her eyes followed Aang as he made his way across the house and eventually thumped Sokka on the back, sending a spoonful of whatever Sokka was stirring onto his apron. Both men laughed for a few seconds before Aang Waterbended the liquid off the apron and back into the pot. A tiny grimace flitted across Katara's features; hopefully Gia, perhaps the pickiest eater Katara had ever seen, hadn't seen that little act of desensitization. One glance at the group of playing kids told her that, at least for now, they were safe. Then:

"Hakoda's at the door."

A split second after Toph's quiet announcement, the door opened and in stepped a third man, one also heavily weighed down with bags of gifts—

"Grandpa!"

Startled at the sudden exclamation from every child in the room, Katara started slightly in surprise. The kids all leaped to their feet and bounded into the next room, some still shouting and all grinning.

Nikka, who still had not fully adjusted to the type of earth upon which she stood, misjudged her location, headed in the direction that the screams were going, and ran promptly into the wall. Sokka immediately ceased his catering and darted over to the embarrassed girl, who was already climbing back to her feet. Katara's hands flew to her mouth in a semi-horrified, semi-amused shock. Toph burst into laughter but nevertheless rose to assist her husband if her help was needed.

"What a life, huh?" Aang dropped into Toph's vacated seat and put an arm around his wife, who gave a sort of wary giggle.

"We have it pretty good, don't we?" Katara asked, her blue eyes following the group of children as they proceeded to tackle Hakoda to the ground. She unconsciously gave her pregnant belly an affectionate pat.

Aang, eyebrows raised, tore his gaze from Sokka and Toph, who were dragging an objecting Nikka to her feet and checking her for injuries, and shared a sidelong glance, with his wife.

Both grinned. No answer was necessary.

-

_Fin_

* * *

A/n: So that's basically it. I hope that, if you were looking for actual plot, you weren't too disappointed, or maybe that the spirit of the season actually made you smirk to yourself at some point; that's sort of my goal, after all. This entire ficlet was spawned from watching youngins on Christmas Eve, and then the thought of Nikka running headlong into a wall made me sit down and write this. 

OH, and before I forget: Thank you all so much for helping this story break **300 reviews**! Looking back on my early fan fiction days, it brings me great joy to see how far we've all come in the last two years. You guys are wonderful, and I enjoy reading your words (both kind and otherwise), even if I don't always have time to reply to them. Thanks!

So again, Happy [Insert Holiday Here, and Happy New Year!


	28. The Last Spoof

A/N: So I was browsing through my "Unfinished" folder, dusting off things and making vain attempts at finishing others. I stumbled across this little story, which was originally supposed to be a spoof of the actual series, written in script-format. Apparently, after beginning it, I decided I wasn't funny enough and gave up. A few minor corrections later, I thought I'd post it so you guys can see the sort of junk I have lying around on my hard drive!

Please, by no means, take this seriously. It's about a hundred years old.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

Avatar: The Last Spoof

_(Percussions)_

_(Strings)_

_(Winds)_

_(Words)_

_A backdrop and person appear with each corresponding word._

Katara: Water. Earth. Fire Air.

_Pan in on map._

Katara: Back in the day, my Grandma used to tell us stories about a great world made up of four nations. The Avatar kept everyone in line with his frightening power, but when the Fire Nation attacked he disappeared. Convenient, no?

_Fire people do cool dance, Avatar disappears in a wisp of smoke._

Katara: Anyway, a hundred years have passed and the Fire Nation hasn't ended the war yet. Since nobody else was doing anything about it, two years ago the men of our tribe went to fight in the war, and they left two kids—that's me, an overprotective Waterbender, and my brother, a sexist, overgrown child—to look after our _whole_ tribe. Two _kids_. Remember that.

_Pan up to Katara's face._

Katara: Some people think that the Avatar was never reincarnated into the Air people, and that the Avatar Cycle is ruined. But I believe that the Avatar will return and save the world.

_Dramatic pause._

Katara: Ha! Just kidding. We're all screwed.

_Pan up to sky, dramatic music and title._

-

_(Scene opens with a lot of ice and a river. A boat floats down the river containing a boy and girl. These people are under no circumstances the main characters.)_

Katara: Look, a fish!

Sokka: This _is_ a river, you know. Now shut up and let the man do the hunting.

_He poises his spear and makes pathetic jabs at water and fails at catching anything. Katara removes glove, takes deep breath, and raises a fish out of the river in a water sphere. _

Katara: Look, I got one!

Sokka:_(without looking)_ Shut up, I'm working here! Here fishy fishy fishy… gotcha!

_He jabs and misses._

Sokka: Damn it!

Katara: Look Sokka, I got one! I'm not even kidding you right now!

_Sokka raises spear again and pops the fish bubble. He gets soaked and the fish swims away. _

Sokka:_(angrily)_ Hey, did you see that fish jump and hit me in the head?

Katara:_(deadpan)_ That was me.

Sokka: Oh. Well, stop doing weird magic. You know, in some countries you'd be burned at the stake for that. What the—_ah!_ Iceberg, right ahead!

_They're heading for an extreme ice bed._

Katara: Ice? In the South Pole? Blasphemy, I tell you! _(conversationally)_ Well, let's just steer right into it, shall we?

Sokka: Good idea.

_Both scream. They bump around in the boat until they are miraculously tipped onto an ice shelf. _

Katara: That was close.

Sokka: Yeah. If you hadn't been screwing around with that fish, none of this would have ever happened. All your fault!

Katara:_(flinging arms around) _It is not my fault! If you didn't spend so much time thinking about yourself, we could have caught a fish already and gotten home. Why were we trying to catch fish on a boat anyway? And wouldn't we have better supplies than a spear and your dim-witted tricks? YES!

_She flings her arms around some more and ignores Sokka's pointing. The giant ice thing breaks, they miraculously don't get hurt, and a big orb comes out of nowhere._

Katara: Cool! A giant, evil-looking orb with a glowing person inside!

Sokka: Sounds like a meal! _(aside)_ Either that, or that stuff I drank this morning wasn't water. Let's get him!

_Katara grabs his sword, runs across the suddenly available ice clumps, and attacks the orb until it shatters. _

_[Enter explosively bright lights_

Sokka: Wow, look at that!

Katara: Wh-what is it, Sokka?

Sokka: It looks to me like a plot device! Let's get it!

-

_Fin... (Well, sort of).  
_

* * *

A/N: See what I mean? There were a few lines that made me chuckle, but for the most part it would have been grueling to write. Agh!

Thanks for reading, and I'm sorry for any brain trauma this might have caused you!


	29. Some VDay Lovin's!

A/n: So, Happy Valentine's Day:D I hope that you've enjoyed it even if you don't really celebrate it... I guess...?

For the CAPSLOCKTOKKA LJ page, metro.max demanded that people post something Tokka-related for V-Day, and I was more than happy to comply. No, I did not create Valentine's Day in the Avatar World. That would be... lame. Ehh...

HINT: If you don't like what you're reading, just keep reading. That is all I can say.

**Rating:** PG -- PG-13, whatever you decide.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

**Valentine's Day Love**

**I did it for the lulz xD **

Sokka roughly pushed the front door open with his shoulder and backed into the house, his arms laden with scrolls from work and bags from his pit stop at the grocery store. The day had been… exhausting, to say the least. What with the new peace treaty with the Fire Nation finally sent off to Fire Lord Zuko for ratification, Sokka had been pummeled with messenger hawks all day, each bringing some sort of objection or desired change to the treaty.

No sooner had he managed to wedge the door closed with his foot, however, did an endearing laugh sound behind him. Sokka froze with his arms still full of objects, foot propped up against the door, and let out a slow breath. He knew that laugh, one that meant a multitude of things on a multitude of levels, knew he was in for _something_. What it was, he could only imagine.

Slowly, he turned without shifting his body position, one eyebrow raised higher than the other in his curiosity. If he had planned on finishing all this work, he probably shouldn't have.

Standing there in the doorway of the kitchen, one hand leaning her against the frame and the other propped delicately on her waist, was Toph. And she was wearing what he might have thought was a rather short dress had he not recognized it as his tunic. Sokka gulped. By the looks of things, she appeared to be wearing _only _his tunic.

"T-Toph!" he stammered, voice oddly high and eyes wide. He gave an embarrassed cough and tried again, voice deliberately lower, "I mean—Toph, what are you—?"

In half a second, she was right in front of him, yanking his head down parallel to hers by his collar. He felt that odd tingly sensation in the pit of his stomach as he—though he might have appeared slightly cross-eyed doing so, since their faces were so close—stared at his wife, whose hair had been let down from its usual bun and spilled across her shoulders like a wave. It was a strange thing, coming through the door after a day of work and meeting something so wonderfully simple as Toph dressed in nothing more than his too-long tunic. Really, a wonderful thing.

"You know I have a lot of work to do, right?" he murmured into her ear.

Smirking impishly, Toph ran her fingers along the line of his jaw… tracing, giving a low giggle under her breath… until finally she slipped her hand behind his head and pulled his mouth downward onto hers in a rather forceful kiss.

"You bet you do," she breathed, pulling away from him only long enough to say it. Her fingers were already fumbling with the knot on his belt. "Sokka…"

There was a clatter as the scrolls and bags fell from his hands and rolled across the floor, forgotten.

"Sokka…"

Sokka discarded the last scroll in his hand to cradle her neck, pressing his lips against hers, already breathing raggedly—

"Sokka, I said _hello!_ Anybody home in that head of yours?"

"Huh, what?" The warrior snapped out of his daze with a shake of his head and managed to wedge the door shut with his foot—the feat was rather difficult with arms full of bags and scrolls. Behind him, a high-pitched shriek announced the recognition of his voice.

He exhaled a long sigh and turned around without shifting his body position, one eyebrow raised higher than the other. Standing in the doorway to the kitchen was Toph, with one hand pressed against the doorframe as if to keep her from toppling over. Her other arm supported a squirming child, one who continued to shriek happily and pull at her mother's frazzled hair. A faint smell of something burning lingered in the air; in his mind's eye, Sokka couldn't suppress the image of Toph lighting the house on fire. Not exactly a comforting thought, he mused, shifting uncomfortably.

Wincing, he asked, "Did you… cook dinner?"

"How could you tell?"

He shrugged and, dropping his collection of scrolls and bags to the floor, strode towards the doorway. For some reason, he wasn't particularly hungry any more. "Instinct. Here—"

Now Sokka reached out and lifted the blind infant away from her mother. Toph looked slightly overwhelmed, he noticed. Tired. Her free hand, without anywhere else to go, ran along the front of her swollen abdomen as if to make sure that the life within was in better shape than she. Hadn't Katara always told him that Aang would do something special for her during her (one of her multiple) pregnancies, like sing or make a feast or something? Well, Sokka knew that singing would only make her cry, and his cooking wasn't much better. So to compensate, for his heart ached for the both of them and all they had done, he cupped the side of her face in his free hand and leaned in for a brief—but, somehow, still good enough—kiss.

"When was the last time I told you how beautiful you are?" he asked, voice low and a sly grin spreading on his face.

Toph seemed to interpret his words at more than face value. She put one hand on his chest and shoved him playfully away from her. "Yesterday," she replied, "And don't you get any ideas—we have a lot of work to do around here still."

"Hey, did I say that? I never suggested anything!" When she merely began to walk away from him, he tucked Nikka under his arm like an airball—the child gave a high-pitched squeal of delight as her messy cow-pigtails flew about her face—and followed the very pregnant Earthbender towards the kitchen. "Can't a guy show his wife how much he appreciates her… and stuff?"

"You can _tell_ me all you like," Toph intoned with a smile, "But I think I'll need a rain check on the showing part."

"Uh_huh_…"

"I'm starving, and in case you couldn't tell—I think you'd have to be really sick in order to _not_ smell it—I'm not the greatest cook." She turned around so that he could see she was still smiling. "Food would be nice, for starters."

Sokka, grinning at his wife and spinning around in a circle with Nikka at the same time, announced, "I can do that!"

"Good. Then, you know." She shrugged over her shoulder and started off again in the opposite direction. "Depending on if Nikka goes right to sleep, I'll see if I can fit you into my busy schedule."

"Your schedule, huh?" He watched Toph's retreating back until she disappeared into the other room. Then, once she was out of his line of sight, he hoisted his daughter up around the underarms until she was at eye-level with him.

"You heard the lady," he said sternly. Nikka merely hiccuped and laughed some more. "You've got to go right to sleep tonight, or else Daddy won't be able to—ouch! _Hey!_"

Scowling and rubbing his ear where the infant had blindly grabbed it, Sokka started after Toph's wake.

"It's not exactly how I imagined it would be—this whole marriage and parenting thing," said Sokka to his blind daughter as he shifted her into a more comfortable position against his chest. "But really, it's actually sort of nice, isn't it?"

He allowed a moments pause, in which Nikka gurgled happily and Toph called his name from the kitchen, before another thought crossed his mind:

"Hmm, I wonder where Toph put that old tunic…"

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/n: Probably the most suggestive thing I've ever written, even if it was only in poor Sokka's head. BUT, in my defense, Sokka thought it and not me. Actually, if you really want to, you can throw things at me. But either way, I really had fun writing this, and I hope that you sort of liked it, even if you really didn't...? xD I don't know what I'm saying. In other words: Thanks for reading! Crit is not encouraged because this wasn't written in seriousness at all, but by all means, if you want to say something critical then say it nicely.

Again, thanks! Happy V-Day to all!


	30. Smoldering Green

A/n: You probably have not heard about the Avatar Olympics, which is the biggest Avatarded collaboration to date! Seven of the biggest forums (minus the biggest, ASN) are competing for the gold medal in areas of fan videos, graphics, trivia, art, and of course fan fiction. Now, my dear KF forum was lagging along in basically last place until we took a gold medal in designing a pair of stellar OCs. And then came along the writing competition. These were the requirements:

- _Maximum of 1000 words._  
- Features a CANON Avatar Character having a Nightmare.  
- Can create a Villain to appear in the Nightmare, but the character having it must be canon.

Well, needless to say, I jumped on this and submitted it for our team. And... we won! So here's the story that won the writing portion of the Avatar Olympics. :D

* * *

_Smoldering Green_

How could this injustice—this _massacre_—happen to the only ones he'd ever loved? The man had lived his life with a focused mind and an open heart, and yet he was still forced to watch his life crumble around him. After all, this evil—evil worse than the Fire Lord, evil that had been after him for months, even sniffing him out—could not be evaded for too long. It appeared wherever he roamed, no matter the circumstance. Yes, there had been others that had tried to ruin his life, others that had caused him heartache, but not like this. The menace that followed him was as agile and swift as the wind itself, more powerful than even the greatest kings, and more careless for the work of others than even the most treacherous felons.

He swallowed, hard, and cast a furtive glance around stone wall he had been using as a barrier. The streets were empty, save for the occasional tumbleweed that rolled lazily across his path. Buildings, all deserted and broken, reeking with the stench that he could not bring himself to name, lined the streets of the ghost town that was once the Impenetrable City. Terror loomed in the very air he breathed, flecks of orange streaked across the crimson sky like permanent lighting bolts. His white-knuckled grip on the carriage before him eased only so he could adjust the blanket that covered his children in the cart.

"We'll get out of here," he murmured, choking on the words as if he already knew they were a lie. He had been told of a last ship, one that could take him and his remaining loved ones away from this place, away from the smell, away from that _monster_. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped with the rolling carriage around his barrier and into the war-stricken street.

Nothing. Hardly even a breeze. Then he stiffened, his fingers clutching still to the handle of the carriage; that most terrible smell had wound itself around him like ropes until it reached his nose and made him gag. A rolling wave of nausea erupted in his stomach, barely stifled.

They were on fire. Oh _spirits_, their wonderfully round heads were burning and there was nothing he could even do. But no, there was no going back—only forward, towards the shore, before the rest of his children could be destroyed.

Suddenly, he was running as fast as his legs could carry him, but even as he raced forward with his heartbeat pounding in his temples the path stretched longer before him. And as he ran, the monster stepped out onto the street up ahead with his staff at the ready.

His feet froze in place—or, rather, he tried to freeze them, but for some reason he couldn't' stop running towards the menace, the murderer.

The monster beckoned him forward with a wave of his arm, and with that wave the man was suddenly surrounded on both sides of the road by those he cared for most; they were all set ablaze.

"You let us die!" they moaned as they continued to burn, engulfed by flame.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he cried, still pushing the cart forward, resisting with all his might and yet unable to stop his feet.

The monster of a child's grin widened until his eyes lit up, the arrow on his head beginning to grow white until it was so bright that it made the flames around them almost appear dark. With a flourish, he stomped on the ground, sending a tremor beneath the man's feet that almost tipped the cart and the precious crop within them.

"They_all_ must die!" proclaimed the boy responsible for all his life's trouble, the monster. Fang sprouted from his mouth and the arrow on his head, along with his narrowed eyes, burned a demonic red until the very fire around him surged upward towards the sky. His lifted his hand, cackling madly, and the carriage burst into flames.

"No!"

The smell erupted all around as his precious, precious produce—they had been his children since seedlings, his loves!—continued to wither and burn like the ones lining the streets. It was a scent so horrible it brought him, clutching his hat and crying out in agony at his lost work—crashing to his knees with the flaming cart. A smell that made his eyes burn as he clutched at his hat, as the evil child laughed, as the very world began to fade to black.

"NO!"

Burning leaves, smoldering green.

"_My cabbages!_"

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/n: I cannot tell you... how agonizing it was to wait for the panel of judges to come out with their results. It was _awful_ because, well, I've never had my writing compared to other people's and scored. To tell you the truth, it was probably the originality that won me the .5 over 2nd place, because 2nd place (written by the awesome cubie of Dongbu Feng, who is a huge Tokkaneer) was written just as well, if not moreso. 

But yeah, I was pretty happy with the thing, the concept especially. Some people guessed eight away who it was, while others did not. Either way, I hope you enjoyed it, and thanks for reading!


	31. Reflective Resolution

A/n: I know, I know. I go away for... months, and this is all you get? Sorry, I've been busy! Gah. Actually, I'll be surpised if everyone is still reading Avatar stuff, since all those leaked episodes sort of killed a lot of enthusiasm.

Anyway, Rawles and the sickfish podcast wanted some Maiko drabbles for a contest, so I entered and got honerable mention! Whoo. So... enjoy!

* * *

_(Reflective) Resolution_

Three years.

She had waited three years—long years, taking each monotonous day until she could no longer sit at home with her hands folded politely in her lap. What was it that he (hypocrite) had told her about patience? She couldn't remember; those memories had long since run together in the back of her mind like one inky black smudge on parchment, lost and forgotten. All she could remember from his time away was waiting, waiting…

And then, by some stroke of miracle or insanity (or perhaps both), he and she were both gone, and somehow still inexplicably together, and then he was no longer gone and all she had waited for ("Just be patient, Mai.") came crashing back to these few, wonderful weeks. She cherished them with him, exploring all those things he thought had been long ago displaced by frustration and despair, talking and touching and _living!_ Oh spirits, for the first time she could smile and breathe and _live_ and—

Just like that, he was gone (again), pulled by the force that had been enticing him all long, always just kissing (ghosting) the back of his mind like her fingers (used to) graze his chest—temptation, for honor and truth, a chance to make things right. But in his wake he left a ghost of a woman, whose heart beat in her chest but could not thrive on empty wishes and the returning emptiness, not when she had just tasted victory.

Three years. She had waited three years, so what was ten more?

(But no)

This time there would be no waiting.

No, she decided (somewhat) darkly, standing at the window of his deserted bedroom with a packed bag slung over one shoulder, he could not be far from here.

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/n: I really miss feeling inspired and stuff, but actually I'm wrapping up a short Iron Man piece that I'm ashamed to have written, ehehe.

Anyway, thanks for reading! Sorry for such a short little excuse for an update!


	32. New Development

A/n: you have no idea how long I've been waiting to post this crack story. You see, after seeing TBR, the brilliant Rawles came up with a theory that makes SO MUCH SENSE. So here it is, in a lulzy story format!

Disclaimer: I don't even own the crack theory.

**WARNING: SPOILERS FOR "THE BOILING ROCK" **if you live in a cave and haven't seen it yet.

Happy Reading!

* * *

_New Development_

Zuko has never done things the "normal" way, or even half way for that matter. He would never just get banished; he would get his butt royally kicked and then banished. He wouldn't just become a traitor and side with the Avatar, oh no. He would make sure to wholly destroy her heart first, then get recaptured so she would have to look him in the eye again. Not that she hadn't been very surprised to see that sappy, stupid letter sitting innocently on her bed--after years of knowing someone, it still hurts just as badly, especially considering the circumstances.

No, Zuko never did anything halfway, and this was no exception.

If she sat down and thought about it, she still got that intense sense of longing and emptiness, almost to the point where she began to feel teary-eyed (although, given, such hormone-induced circumstances were hardly extraordinary).

At first is had been harmless, even funny to the pair of them. Every once in a while, when the time was right and when they were sure that they wouldn't be interrupted, they would pick a house--his or hers, depending on what meetings were going on at which houses that day--pick a room, and enjoy one another's company as intimately as could be. It was at these times where she felt safest, oddly, though she was by all means the most vulnerable, like she'd never have to make any decisions or commitments other than the one she had made when they agreed to get physical in the first place. What a commitment that had turned out to be.

"I don't need any protection."

"Trust me, she doesn't."

She could feel the ironic humor in his voice, although he had no idea just how ironic the statement actually was. It took all the strength she had not to turn around and give him a deadly, silencing glare, but for now she would let him relish in their mutual daring lawlessness. Would he know, if he looked at her? She assumed not--how could he know from one concerned look that she had rolled out of bed every day for the last week with nausea that had nothing and everything to do with her heartbreak? It was probably better that he didn't know, anyway; he didn't need that sort of pressure while he was off on his crusade, especially since he had locked her in a cell and left her there with hardly more than a frightened look.

Then again, she thought bitterly as she lay on the cold ground of the cold cell she shared with Ty Lee, her arms crossed behind her head and her armored boots propped up against the wall, she had locked him in a cell with that sniveling guard. But in the end (was it really the end, she wondered, or the beginning?), they had both done what they needed to do, and were both facing the consequences of their actions.

That sensation in her stomach again prompted her to sit bolt upright where she lay, consequently scaring Ty Lee on the other side of the room; the girl, whose arms were wrapped around her knees, jumped slightly where she sat, her gray eyes wide with alarm.

"Mai, what s it--?" She stopped asking when Mai hurried across the room, grabbed the sides of the grimy toilet to steady herself, and then retched into it. "Mai!"

Leaping up so fast that tripped over her ankle shackles and fell flat on her face, Ty Lee scrambled to her feet and shuffled as quickly as she could get to her friend's aid. By the time she got across the room, though, Mai had already pulled back from the bowl, wiping her mouth disgustedly with her sleeve. The pink-clad acrobat dropped to her knees in front of Mai and stared with wide eyes at the pale, tired woman before her.

"None--of this was supposed to happen," said Mai in a raspy voice, dragging her sleeve across her frowning mouth again. She had never been one to say more than was strictly necessary.

Ty Lee folded her hands in her lap and responded quietly, "Nobody plans on getting sent to jail, Mai."

Mai stood up and swept over to the cell's door, peering out as if she half expected Zuko to be pacing around outside. "First I didn't expect him to run off like that, during the invasion. But he did, and that was still okay because at least I could take care of it on my own, but now Azula's locked us up here. If my uncle can't get us out, we might be here for a long time, and by then--"

"Mai--"

"If the war's not over by then, we'll be dead anyway--"

"Mai, listen to me!" shrieked Ty Lee. "This doesn't sound like you!"

Mai turned to face her friend to see that Ty Lee had also stood once again and clapped her hands over her mouth. If she knew Ty Le (and she did), then she also knew that she was about to hear a very wordy, very exuberant epiphany.

"Mai--" She faltered slightly. "Why are you sick but not really sick? What do you need to take care of, and why does Zuko need to be a part of it? I don't--" Mai sighed inwardly. Here we go. "Mai! Don't tell me you're--oh Mai, this is _wonderful!_"

Without warning, Ty Lee launched herself at Mai and locked her in a bone-crushing, suffocating hug. Mai's vision swayed violently with pink, she tripping backwards until she had to hug Ty Lee back in order to keep from toppling over.

"'Wonderful' wasn't exactly the word I had in mind," Mai sighed dryly.

Ty Lee didn't seem to hear her. "Wow, this explains why you've been so moody lately--and by moody I mean really less emotionless than usual! Oh, and it also explains that weird sandwich I saw you eating the other week, and--"

Finally regaining herself, Mai pulled Ty Lee away and held her at arm's length. As if her head wasn't already spinning, the acrobat always had a way of making matters seem less dangerous, and that only made her wary. Damn feelings.

"I'm serious, Ty Lee."

"You're always serious."

"This is dangerous. It's only a matter of time before Azula finds out, and then we won't have to worry about anything any more."

Ty Lee's smile melted into a pout until she finally scooted backwards and sat down against her bit of wall. A short time later, Mai plopped herself down as well. Ty Lee giggled. Mai glared in her direction.

"What is it?" she deadpanned.

"Oh, nothing..." Ty Lee shot Mai what she most like thought was a covertly amused glance. "It's just... I didn't know Zuko had it in him!" Mai's eyebrows shot up and Ty Lee hastily added, "Not that it's my business, but I didn't know you liked each other that much, and Mai... wow."

"Wow is right," replied Mai in an undertone, leaning her face sideways against the wall as if bored. "I'm going to have to go shopping, if we get out of here."

"I love shopping," Ty Lee observed.

"And if I throw up one more time, I'm going to... throw up again."

Ty Lee giggled amusedly. "So... was it worth it?"

"It depends. Are you actually talking about the time that got me into this mess, or any normal time?"

"Mai!"

Mai felt a smile rise in the corners of her mouth, and forcing it down she turned her half-lidded eyes back to an open-mouthed Ty Lee.

"B-but..." Apparently she was having a bit of a hard time getting her mind around the idea, though Mai wasn't quite sure why. Then again, she considered with an ironic sigh, Zuko had been awkward in the first place. Finally Ty Lee burst out, no longer to contain herself, "When, Mai? Where?"

Mai shrugged. "Pick a room."

A delicate pause. "You wouldn't... not... Azula's room?"

The latter almost seemed scandalized at the prospect, but it did not keep her from bursting into laughter when at last Mai shot her a sly look. Mai, grudgingly, smiled as well, though in the back of her mind she couldn't help but wonder what Zuko's face would look like if he knew that they were having this conversation. Oh well, she supposed he deserved it well enough for being an idiot in the first place.

Once Ty Lee recovered from her giggle fit enough to speak, she pointed to Mai's still "normal" stomach and joked, "So, where did this happen?"

_"But what if my father finds out?"_

_Mai pulled back from where her fingers had been tracing idly along the back of his neck. His eyes held a moderately concerned expression, fixed upon hers as intensely as if he were staring down an opponent, and yet with a softness that she had learned to see behind the presumably cold, contemplative gaze._

_"It wasn't _my_ idea," she said plainly._

_Zuko shifted uncomfortably between her and the tapestry-laden wall, flexing his fingers nervously around her waist. His heart was pounding in his chest, she felt, with excitement and wariness at the same time._

_"Well, it wasn't mine either," he retorted with a half frown. "We just wound up here."_

_"Whatever works for you, Zuko. But remember that this is one of the only rooms we haven't covered," she said boredly, but with a hint of mischievous amusement. She lifted her chin, their lips met briefly. "This room might never be unguarded again."_

_On that note, Zuko nodded and, grinning, kissed her again, breaking away only to chuckle, "It is a really nice room."_

"Mai?"

Snapping from her recollection--she could almost feel his mouth on hers, feel the hum of his voice through his chest, his breath in her ear--Mai picked her head up from against the wall, blinking hard twice.

"The Fire Lord has a very nice room," she offered thoughtfully, though she would have sounded unaffected by any other listener.

Again, Ty Lee's hands jumped to her mouth to stifle the forthcoming barrage of laughter at the idea, but this time Mai didn't let the smile rise to her face. The very flashback had been so vivid that it made apparent once more the obstacles she was bound to face. And with or without him--preferably with, but she couldn't expect that to happen any more--she would overcome it all.

The cell was cold, she felt pessimistic, and out of the two conditions came a statement so simple that it rattled the both of them: "I'm hungry."

"Me too," Ty Lee sighed, leaning her chin on one hand. "Do you think the chef takes requests? Besides gruel?"

"I don't think he'd want to make the sandwich I'm craving, even if he did, "said Mai. She cast a look towards the cell door again. Zuko's last expression flashed across the forefront of her mind as realistically as if she'd seen it for the first time. "Or a tray of fruit tarts." She sighed quietly and muttered, "With rose petals."

Silence enveloped the cell once more, Mai's poignant and Ty Lee's pondersome, curious as she watched that strange light flicker in her friend's eyes. Somewhere on the inner circle of the prison, the sounds of the inmates bustling about with their everyday prison lives drifted through the bars, but neither of the two spoke. Ty Lee seemed to be struggling with herself, opening her mouth to speak and then biting back the words. The room sighed heavily.

Finally, Ty Lee could no longer restrain herself. She burst out in a sudden shout that made Mai's head turn expectantly towards her, "Can I name it?!"

Mai didn't miss a beat. "Absolutely not."

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/n: Yay, crack! I had a really fun time writing this, and I hope you enjoyed reading it, too! I know the hype for Avatar is on the dwindleside now, but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy our last days together. -hearts-

Thanks for reading!


	33. Decision

A/n: This was one of the very first things I wrote in the Avatar Fandom, but NEVER finished it. I tried several times, but it just didn't work out for me.

And yet, I thought it was pretty darn good for an incomplete idea, so I'm posting it here for your reading pleasure. The finale was amazing, by the way. Just... GAH. Awesome.

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Happy Reading!

* * *

_Decision _

Hood pulled over her blue eyes, Katara looked left and right before she ducked into the dimly-lit tavern

Hood pulled over her blue eyes, Katara looked left and right before she ducked into the dimly lit tavern. Being seen would cause just short of a riot, especially on a night like this one, where the tension in the air was already unmistakable without the presence of somebody so well-known.

She slipped into the bar and let the door close behind her with a dull thud, the dust rising from the dirt-caked floor. The bar was filled with men and women, mostly cloaked peasants, who sat and murmured over their pints. Katara made her way through the meandering aisle until she found an empty barstool in the back of the room. She sidestepped a drunken man and took a seat, deliberately leaving the stools on either side of her empty. Moments later, a ragged-looking bartender was in front of her.

"My favorite customer," she said, setting aside a half-cleaned mug and pressing her palms flat on the table. "What can I do for you, Miss?"

"Just the usual, thank you," answered Katara, bowing her head in gratitude. She slid two coins across the table with two fingers.

As she waited, Katara leaned her chin on her hand and strummed her fingers on the bar table. Every time she told her husband that she was going shopping, she made sure to make a special trip to this bar. Of course, this was not actually a lie because she _did_ go shopping, but shopping with her companions while they had been in hiding had shaped her into one of the quickest shoppers around. So, after she'd ran to the jewelry store to pick out a pair of earrings for the forthcoming event, she'd traveled straight to the tavern.

The bartender, her hand shaking slightly with the weight of the heavy glass, placed a frothing pint in front of Katara and backed off a step. She leaned her elbows on the bar table with interest.

"How's it going, kid?" she asked, voice low to keep others from overhearing. "How's the royal life?"

Katara nodded once, but instead of replying, leaned low and sipped the froth off of her drink with a thirsty vigor. The bartender chuckled.

"You haven't been here in a while, but I know that look of yours; I've seen it on some of the biggest alcoholics in here and it never bodes well for them. What's going on in that home of yours? Family trouble?"

Raising her eyes to meet her friend's, Katara replied in a similar, quiet tone, "Perhaps. With any luck, no, but perhaps. It's—well, you know, don't you? The whole nation is buzzing about it!"

"I've heard rumors."

"Rumors, hah!" Katara scoffed. She sat up and smirked at the bar tender. "You bartenders hear more than royalty does. You probably know more about my life than even I do, Gia."

The bartender, now Gia, shrugged and began cleaning a mug with a grimy towel. "Ah, princess, I don't know what to tell you. It's always the same; I'm sure your husband gets sick of hearing tales of the Avatar and his companions: the Warrior, the Blind Bandit, and of course the Waterbender that he _deeply_ cared for." She placed a mocking hand over her heart. "But alas, it was not meant to be. In the end, the Waterbender chose the Fire Prince and lived happily ever after. Not your average fairy tale, no, but it has a certain level of _spark_ to it, if you don't mind my pun."

"Not at all," Katara said dryly. She took a long drink from her pint as if to make a point.

"And anyway," Gia continued, now setting her mug aside and whipping the towel against the table for effect, "Even though nobody but me and you knows it, I know the real story—"

"True enough." Another long drink.

"—and I know what's going through your mind right now, as you sit here at my counter and drink a pint of my finest brew. Your nerves are shot, aren't they?"

Katara answered by lifting her mug and taking another swig. Gia chuckled.

"Poor dear. You don't think anything will happen, do you? If you even make it home without toppling over, I mean."

A deep silence ensued as Katara mulled over her response. Finally, after a few moments, Katara drained her mug and stood up. She tugged her hood back over her eyes, shrugged, and replied, "I'm going to try my best to keep things normal, but I'm no Aunt Wu. I don't know—I wish I _did_ know, but I don't." On that note, she turned and began to walk away, tipping only slightly on her way out the door.

Gia smiled weakly and shook her head, amused. Although Katara may not have noticed it, _she_ had seen the unusual twinkle in the Waterbender's eyes… or perhaps it had been the brew.

"Good luck, Kid," she muttered, chuckling, as she picked up her towel and began to clean her mug again.

-

By the time Katara got home with her one shopping bag, her husband was already in bed and she was beginning to emerge from the drink-borne fog. He sat, propped up on some pillows against the bed board, with one of his favorite readings. A single candle lit the otherwise dark room, providing just enough room for reading and for Katara to know where she was walking. When she slipped into the room and pulled back her hood, he looked up at her through curious eyes.

"You missed dinner." It was not an accusation, but rather a statement.

"I'm sorry," replied Katara, unclasping her cloak and removing it. She began to prepare for bed, first kicking off her shoes and then unbuttoning the side of her sash. "I couldn't find this bracelet anywhere; I had to go to about ten thousand shops."

"I see."

He continued to watch as she moved about the room in her graceful manner. Katara, dressed in peasant clothing, took the bracelet out of its bag and set it on the vanity before she donned nightclothes and let her hair down. When she climbed into bed, her husband set aside his book and turned to face her.

"Tomorrow will be a big day," he stated. She nodded, hoping that she had done a well enough job of brushing her teeth so that he couldn't smell her booze. "In the early morning, I have to attend a meeting with Uncle, so I won't be able to wake you. Could you make sure to get up on time and meet me for the early morning welcoming ceremony and breakfast?"

Smiling a small smile, she kissed him softly on the mouth and replied, "I won't be late, Zuko. I promise."

Zuko nodded, turned, and snuffed out the candle. Her mind buzzed, she turned sideways in the dark and ran a hand across his broad shoulder, he whispered her name and leaned in.

-

The sun was high in the sky by the time Katara was gently shaken awake. With a small groan of objection, she opened her eyes to see the worried face of her young maid. Rubbing her eyes and yawning, Katara propped herself up on her elbow. A dull throb had settled in the back of her head from the previous night, but in her confusion she hardly noticed this ebbing pain.

"What's wrong, Xueyi?" she asked, groggy.

Xueyi looked strained. "Milady, the welcoming ceremony…"

Katara gasped and sat bolt upright, the silk sheets falling down to her waist to reveal her wrinkled nightgown. She'd promised that she wouldn't forget, and yet she had forgotten all the same! Why, _why_, had she overslept on this day of all days? Alarmed and beginning the panic, she scrambled out of bed (almost knocking Xueyi over in the process) and began to run about, snatching up articles of clothing as she went. What would Zuko think as he sat there at breakfast without his lady? Guilt crept through her veins as she went about her way. Meanwhile, as Katara darted behind the dressing screen and began to undress, Xueyi tidied up the large space. She pulled open the curtains; light flooded into the room and lightened it several shades. Under normal circumstances, Katara would have stepped out on the balcony to admire the view of the palace garden, but she was in too much of a hurry to even consider it.

"Thank you so much, Xueyi," she said.

"Think nothing of it, Miss," the maid replied. "Do you require assistance, yet?"

Katara adjusted the corset, one for ceremonial purposes, around her middle and gave a weak laugh. "Yes. And it's Katara, Xueyi, not 'Miss' or 'Milady'. I must have told you a thousand times!"

Xueyi dropped the sheets that she had been folding and rushed back behind the screen. "My apologies," she said.

Then, with well-trained fingers, she took the threads of the corset and began to pull at them, from the bottom up. Katara gasped slightly and grabbed the tabletop beside her; this process was never fun and always suffocating, albeit flattering to her figure.

"What time is it?" she asked, anxious of what her husband would think when she arrived, late, at the luncheon. In addition, the question distracted her from the process that she was currently undergoing. Katara's hand reached up at a particularly hard tug from Xueyi and rested on the base of her neck, one finger rubbing absently against the amber pendant of her engagement necklace.

"Just before midday."

She winced at this response and gripped the tabletop even tighter. She'd never been this late before, never _ever_, so _why_ had it happened on the _one day_ she'd needed to make a good impression?

But wait. She straightened her back a little from Xueyi's tugging and from the thought that had sprung into her mind. Why had she felt the need to make a good impression? Although she told herself that it was because she was a princess and needed to be formal about these things, a nagging in the back of her mind reminded her whom she had been thinking about.

"All done, Miss Katara," informed Xueyi, straightening up and wiping a thin later of sweat away from her forehead with the back of her hand. "We'll just get you into your formal dining attire and you can run down to meet your husband."

_And our guest_, added Katara's subconscious. She tried to block that part of her brain, but it continued to prod. So, for the time being, she decided to let it think what it wanted; it wouldn't change anything.

-

Once she was all dressed up, she snatched up the hairpiece that resembled a flame—customarily worn by all Fire Nation royalty—and darted out the door. Being late aside, she knew that she would have felt awkward at the ceremony anyway, so the only feeling that she had at the moment—besides anxiety, which she was not willing to admit feeling at the time—was guilt for Prince Zuko, who always did his best to make her happy.

Katara made her way down the labyrinthine halls of the Fire Nation palace, moving as fast as she could without breaking into a full run. Running, typically, was frowned upon in a place like this, especially from a person of her status. This she had discovered, quite by accident, during the early years of her marriage. Of course, the 'early years', so to speak, were still occurring, as she had only been married for six years. Katara caught a glance of the sun, ever rising, out one of the windows, and this prompted her to speed up.

At long last, she came out of a doorway and found herself at the top of a flight of grand, marble stairs. The sounds of many peoples' conversations came floating out of a grand doorway at the bottom of the staircase, where the formal dining hall was situated. She looked down at her hand, in which her ornamental hairpiece-crown sat. If she was going to enter the room late, she thought, then she must at least look prepared for the occasion. Katara, as she descended the marble case with alarming speed, began to fumble with her hair as she tried to get the gold hairpiece in her topknot. Needless to say, the distraction stole her concentration from where she was going. So, as fate would have it, as she reached the bottom of the stairs, her foot caught on the hem of her dress and she stumbled forward with a small yelp.

At the same time, somebody came flying from around the corner and crashed right into her, sending the pair both sliding across the cold floor. Her hairpiece flew from her hand and skittered across the marble in the opposite direction.

Somewhat shocked by the series of events that had just occurred, Katara took a moment to raise herself up on her knees. She paused, breathing hard and vaguely aware that her hair loopies were swaying about her face in their usual manner. Though she didn't look up, for she was too surprised to do anything at the moment but sit there on her hands and knees, she heard the person whom she had collided with scramble to his feet and race over to her.

"I am _so_ sorry!" The person—a young man, with a voice that she rather liked—exclaimed anxiously. "Are you alright, Miss?"

Katara nodded in reply and waved him away with one hand, not looking up. It was not uncommon for complete strangers, usually nobles or diplomats from the other countries, to stop by for dinner with the Fire Lord. In this circumstance, the hall was apt to be brimming with noble faces she'd never set eyes on before. "I'm fine, don't worry. It was really all my fault; I slipped while trying to fix my—" she looked down at her empty hand and realized that the hairpiece was no longer there "—oh, I dropped it, I guess. Over—over there." She raised her head just enough to see the piece of metal lying on the floor a few feet away. "Could you please…?"

"Don't worry, I've got it," the man assured her, and ran to retrieve it. He tripped slightly on the way, but was nevertheless across the room in a flash.

As the man dropped to one knee, his back to her, to pick up the hairpiece, Katara began to climb to her feet. Her hands absently brushed the dirtied hem of dress and she sighed dimly at the typicality of it all. When she, half-kneeling, finally looked up for the first time and saw that the man, hairpiece in hand, had ceased all movement, she bit back an offhand retort that had been on the tip of her tongue. His eyes were, presumably, fixed on the flame-shaped crown, but that was not what had caught Katara's eye. What she was staring at was the blue line running down the back of the man's neck. Her mouth dropped.

"I…" the man started, but stopped. Slowly, he turned his shoulders around and set his eyes on her, face devoid of expression. "I… _Katara_." He climbed to his feet and strode across the room before stopping just in front of her, empty hand extended. "How are you?"

It was then that Katara realized her mouth was ajar; she closed it. Her blue eyes darted to his extended hand, hesitated, and then her own hand reached up at took his. He assisted her to her feet and waited until she'd brushed off the rest of her dress to say anything else.

Now it was Katara who had lost her words. She tried not to stare at the man that was Aang, but she couldn't help herself. How many years had it been since they'd last met? Five? Six? He'd never towered over her like this before, never stood with broad shoulders and the robes of an adult monk. And yet, he was more or less the same; same nervous smile, same eager eyes. Katara felt a lump rising in her throat. Should she hug him—or, wait, would that be inappropriate? It would something that the pre-marriage Katara would have never thought twice about, but the thought crossed her mind now. Apparently things had changed since the day when she and Aang had stood together, triumphant, on the battlefield.

Aang held out the crown in his hand. "You dropped this?" She nodded and reached out, but he laughed a laugh that was so genuinely _Aang_ that her hand stopped. "Here, allow me."

He took the crown in between his thumbs and forefingers and gently slid the hairpiece into place, brushed back the extra strand of hair that had fallen loose from its knot. Still, Katara could not find a word to say. She had known about his pending visit, but her heart was pounding in her chest all the same. Somehow, although now she didn't know why, she had expected this to be easier.

"Thank you," she breathed, caught herself, coughed, and added, "It's nice to see you, Aang. Did you have a nice trip?"

His smile flickered for only a second at her almost professional tone. "Yeah, it was great! Appa's really tired, but he'll be fine in practically no time." Now he paused, unsure of what to say. "So, um, what about you? Do you… like it here in the palace?" He chanced a look around, expression one of distinct unease, and scratched the back of his head with one hand. "It's very, uh, reddish-looking."

Somewhere in the back of her head, an alarm went off. The way he had worded the question had been casual enough, but answering it the wrong way could cause potential trouble. "It's so nice here," she replied, carefully evading the subject of Zuko and pushing back the comment of the 'reddish' curtains that had popped into the forefront of her mind. "I really do enjoy it."

"I'm glad." Another semi-awkward pause. He made a soft noise as he cleared his throat. "Should we head in?"

Katara just then realized that she was still standing at the bottom of the stairs. "What? Oh! Yes. Let's go, then." They began to walk, rather briskly for two only heading off to lunch. "What did you run out here for, anyway?"

Aang paused. "Oh, I was just… admiring the view."

Before she could bite her tongue, Katara asked, "Did you like what you saw?"

A smirk crossed the Avatar's face. "Sure did."

-

They strode into the dining hall together, side-by-side, and made their way to the long table at the front of the room. To keep her mind from drifting to the man taking long strides beside her, Katara dwelled upon the first time she had ever set foot in this room. The sight had been overwhelming, much like the first time she'd ever seen the Northern Water Tribe; never in her life had she seen such amazing architecture from stone. And he, Zuko, had rested a comforting hand on her shoulder with the promise that she would adapt well to this sort of life, even if the first few weeks were overwhelming. He had been right, for the most part. Stares from every single person in this enormous room no longer fazed her, at least—or rather, from everyone except her husband.

Katara and Aang eventually reached the grand table, where all the members of the royal family sat. As one unit, the pair got down on one knee before the Fire Lord.

"I apologize for my tardiness," said Katara in a low, respectful voice. Aang shot her a sidelong glance at her tone and speech, but otherwise did nothing.

The Fire Lord chuckled and responded, "No harm has been done, Princess Katara. Enjoy your lunch… or maybe we should call it breakfast."

All three of them smiled. Aang and Katara got to their feet and bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Uncle," Katara said, and turned to move around the table and take a seat next to her husband.

Aang followed and sat in the vacant seat beside her, where his traveling cloak was already thrown in a heap. He fell back into his chair and began to dig into a plate of assorted vegetarian food. When Katara sat down, Zuko gave her a grim smile.

"You promised," he said, offering her a bowl of fruit all the same.

She sighed and took the bowl from his hand. "I'm sorry, Zuko," she apologized, voice heavy and laced with urgency. "I overslept. I don't know how it happened."

He nodded once. "It's okay. You didn't miss much, anyway. It was just a welcoming procession for the Avatar, and consisted mostly of standing and bowing."

Over to her right, Aang gave a significant cough.

-

_Fin...?_

* * *

A/n: Just sticking Zuko and Katara together is really difficult, especially since... they don't belong together. At all. xD But if you were wondering, I wrote the part where they meet again to "Let's get it On" by Marvin Gaye. You know, just some extra information...

I had hand-written another scene, but that notebook is in storage now. What will happen? The world may never know, but I'm pretty sure we can assume Aang and Katara live happily ever after... as rightfully should be! You almost have to feel for Zuko here, though, the poor guy. (Except for the part where he's totally cheating on her with Mai, so whatever. Hee hee!)

OH, and before I forget:

TOKKA WEEK IS AUGUST 1-7. I'll hopefully have my Tokka project done for that day, so look for a story called "Tokka Week" on August 1!

* * *


	34. The Puzzle

A/n: This story was written on a whim for my dearest friend Izzy, as a birthday gift two years too late. For those who still read Avatarly things, I hope you can see past the obvious 1a.m. quality and enjoy a little taste of nostalgia. I know I did.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

* * *

_The Puzzle_

Her first thought is of her marriage, and that if she hasn't effectively ended it by her prior actions, it is certainly over now. There is nothing for it, not here. Her second thought is more akin to a flash of emotion, a wave of guilt that, like a burning candle wick, flickers to its end and is gone in a puff of smoke. Her third emotion—well, it is less convoluted than the first two, though more gradually reached.

She thinks at first that he is going to kill her. She doesn't blame him; wearing red of any sort prompts the same reaction in this town as would wielding a sign that reads "I am FIRE NATION, Please hurt me". Wearing red of any sort and prowling around in the dead of night with all of one's belongings and several weapons is like asking to be arrested or beaten, both of which seem like possibilities when he stops her during his patrol and demands to know where she's going.

"I'm—I apologize, Sir," she gasps, for his grip on her wrist only tightens when she drops her bag in surprise and an unsheathed knife comes tumbling into sight. Her eyes travel downwards, from the harsh lines drawn in his face to the blue tunic draped across his broad shoulders, down to his hand where it has curled, unmercifully tight, around her throbbing wrist. Her pale skin seems to shine lighter in the dark, especially against the contrast of his tanned fingers. "I only just arrived in the city."

"What is your business here?" he demands in low tones.

"I only seek refuge from home, and a place to sleep."

"Where is your home?"

She pauses, considering her options, and opts for the truth. "The Fire Nation, as you seem to know by the peculiar clothing beneath my cloak. I have been traveling there for quite some time, but have not been able to make a safe passage abroad until recently."

"And you're wondering around at night with a bag of knives because—?"

"No inn will have me. These weapons, this bag of clothing, it's all I have of my old life." Here, she finds that her breathing has wound down, her heart beats only slightly faster than it should. "I would sleep in the street if it pleases you, so long as you don't relieve me of my property."

At this, she feels the grip on her wrist ease and slips from his grip before he can reconsider. The man meets her eyes, seems to search for an answer to her puzzling situation, and when he finds none looks to his blue-clad companion. The latter nods. The former turns to her once more.

"Come with me."

She complies because she has no option, and for that reason finds herself in a small apartment for four, where the man and his three companions—all men, she realizes with a twinge of apprehension—have made a temporary home in the Earth Kingdom city. Though all of these men are suspicious of her motives, and with good reason, the youngest of them insists that she take his room and that he sleep on the floor in the small but cozy sitting room. She falls asleep slowly with the scent of a stranger on her pillow, and almost shrieks when the first thing she sees upon opening her eyes is an otter-bear's head mounted on the wall.

He meets her civilly the following morning with a cup of tea, an apology for his hostile reaction, and an explanation for his actions. The man, she learns during several long conversations, is from as remote a land as she, though while her land is baked dry by the sun, his is covered in snow and sculpted by the wind. She describes her other life in vague details, explaining that her family is "kind of wealthy and well-to-do in the city", and that she had to flee when her way of life was no longer an option. He has children, just as she, and with an aching heart she learns that he has also lost his spouse. Their means of separation are different in circumstance, his and hers, but the sense of distance and desperation are the same, the sense of grief is the same. Though they come from different worlds and cultures, both can understand what it means to lose.

His smile brightens their dark conversation, changes to a fond memory of his son and daughter during the South Pole hunting season. She listens with a smile itching in the corner of her own mouth, eager to learn.

After a few days and a change of wardrobe, she finds a small inn that she can afford. When she brings to the man this news, though, he seems reluctant to let her leave. He deliberately tries to sound suspicious of her actions as he explains his reasoning, making his comrades believe that he wills her to stay so that she, a Fire Nation native, cannot cause trouble. But somehow, she already understands him well enough to see that he is not ready to see her go. For this reason, and because she has yet to tire of his company, she agrees to stay a while longer.

Their days slip into a patterned system, beginning with her waking up before the warriors to make them breakfast and discovering that the man is already at the kitchen table with two cups of tea at the ready. They sit together and watch the sun rise through the back window, sipping from their steaming mugs and indulging in idle chatter until she eventually insists that, rising with a small smile, she ought to begin her day. By the time the other men appear in the kitchen, rubbing their eyes and sniffing the air, she has prepared breakfast and set the table. They thank her in the oddly spiritual manner in which they conduct their society, marveling that they themselves never learned how to cook so well with so few ingredients.

And she reflects with a smile that she has come to know quite well, as she pours the man a second cup of tea and sinks down across from him at the table, that nor did she. Not before she fled from home, all those years ago.

She watches him interact with his other warriors, tries to take in his mannerisms and the exact rhythm of his low voice as he speaks. He remains the same man, whether he's telling a lighthearted story of his youth's mischief or strategizing the best means of patrolling the city. His arms may flail in excitement, his hands fold gravely upon one another as he laments the war and where it has brought them, so far from home. Over time she picks apart his past like a complicated map and can merely laugh to herself when she realizes that he must be doing the same to her.

Then, on a morning weeks after their first meeting, he asks her for her story—her true story, he clarifies as she sits hesitantly down at her usual spot across from him. After a few moments of pointed silence, during which she picks distractedly at a sliver in the wooden tabletop, she replies that she will not tell him.

"Why not?"

She looks up at him and meets his eyes, and feels a desperate clinging sensation that renders her momentarily speechless. "Because I have enjoyed our amity, as atypical as it has been. I am not what you think I am."

At this, he gives a rumbling laugh. "You're already Fire Nation. What else could you possibly be to make us any less likely to get along?"

"I am everything you hate about the Fire Nation."

"Quite the contrary. I've come to think quite highly of you."

"Only because I have blurred the details so marvelously. If you knew—"

She breaks off here, letting her sentence die out into the morning's calm quiet. In the far sitting room, the youngest warrior pierces her grim train of thought with a muffled snore. She only jumps, though, when she feels his hand slip over hers. Lifting her chin to meet his hardened expression, she takes a breath, braces herself against his inevitable shout that will come as he leaps away from her in horror, and says in a breathy whisper, "I am the Fire Lady."

His expression does not change as he slides his hand so that it grips hers rather than merely sits above it, nor does he reel backwards in the dramatic motion that she had anticipated. Rather, he allows a momentary pause to grow between them before he calmly slides their mugs of tea aside, rises from his seat, and leans across the table to better cradle her head in his hand as he kisses her.

Her first thought is of her marriage, and that it has finally reached its end. Her second though is a fleeting sense of guilt, but that too dies away as she scrambles to her feet to answer his gesture with equal fervor.

Her third thought is confusion, not from the sensation of Hakoda's fingers in her hair or the surprised shout of one of the warriors as he strides into the room and sees his tribe chief with the Fire Nation runaway, but confusion stemmed from the last hundred years of fighting.

Ursa cannot understand the war, if only because kissing the enemy feels like the single most honest thing that she has ever done.

-

_Fin._

-

-

January 11, 2010


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